Napped!
by Livelier
Summary: It's the summer before 7th year and Lily Evans is out riding her bike when a certain black-haired Marauder jumps out from the bushes with an apple and a very large bag in hand... T for language. Lily POV. R&R? Done!
1. Black

A/N: Hey there! It's been quite a while hasn't it? Well, I'm pleased to announce that the wait is over! Exciting, right? Well, I'm going to save my big AN for the bottom so people actually read it. Enjoy and R&R!

_Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter just as surely as I own the world. So in other words, not at all. _

'Napped!

Chapter 1: Black

I had never really liked the color black. It was always so dark and dreary and depressing. Who cares if it's slimming? Corsets are slimming too, but you never see people wearing those anymore. Another thing about black: it was the last name of this one bloke who made me want to rip his head off and stick it to a post so I could throw darts at it and laugh. Doesn't that just sound so fun?

So obviously I was not too pleased when both of those things invaded my perfectly perfect summer vacation. It all started when I decided to take my shiny red bike out for a little joyride...

* * *

The bright summer light filtered through my blinds and flooded my bedroom, creating a little firework show on the inside of my eyelids. I smiled absently to myself. Then came the heavenly aroma of my dad's homemade pancakes. But these were not just any regular pancakes. These ones were dotted with fresh, handpicked huckleberries. It sounds like some sort of disease, I know.

I bolted out of bed, stuffed my toes into some cute fluffy bunny slippers I got for Christmas when I was seven, and ran downstairs. My dad was just shoveling a few pancakes from the pan to my "Lily plate". It was a plate with my name on it that I had made at a pottery shop in downtown London when I was little. I only ate huckleberry pancakes on it. It was a sacred dish.

"Morning, Daddy!" I greeted him cheerily. He kissed my head and went back into the kitchen.

Petunia made a sour "I-just-ate-a-bad-lemon" face when I sat down in the chair across from her, and stabbed a tiny piece of pancake with her fork and popped it into her mouth. I could barely hear myself think over the annoying smacking of her lips.

"You should really try to chew with your mouth closed. You sound like a horse," I pointed out kindly to her. Well, it was kinder than it could have been. I've been known for much worse insults.

"At least I don't look like one," she sneered at me. I nearly choked on my pancake. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Even her whale-like fiancée had compared her to a horse the first time he came to the house for dinner—the fairest horse in the land, of course. That was the only intelligent thing I'd ever heard him say.

I washed down the last of my four over-sized huckleberry pancakes with a swig of orange juice, and then set my plate and glass in the sink. Petunia could wash them later. Then I went up stairs to take a shower and get ready for the day. I made sure to take an extra long, extra hot shower just for Petunia. She usually preferred the cold water. Well, not really, but I always got a kick out of her shivering and sopping wet form coming into my room to scream bloody murder at me.

I wrapped a towel around me and walked down the hall to my bedroom. In my room, I grabbed a maroon marker from the top drawer of my nightstand. I wandered over to the Gryffindor calendar on my wall and crossed off another day. There was just over two weeks left of summer vacation. Exactly one week from today was the day we got our supply list, and the day I found out if that shiny Head Girl badge would be mine. Nothing could possibly ruin this week. Nothing.

After that little task was done, I picked out a bright yellow blouse and white shorts to reflect my sunny mood, and bounced back downstairs. Petunia was still at the dining table, eating that first pancake like she was some sort of queen, taking dainty little bites only after she had cut the pancake into dozens of one-square-inch pieces.

I passed through the sitting room on my way to the garage, and paused for a second to kiss my mum good morning. She looked up, surprised.

"Well, good morning! Aren't you in a fantastic mood," she laughed. "Dad just left for work, and I'll be leaving shortly. Are you good for the day?"

"I sure am! I'm going to go take my bike out for a spin, okay? Bye! Have a brilliant day!" I called over my shoulder, but I was already out the door.

Parked in the middle of the garage was not a car, but my new shiny red bike. I beamed at it like a proud parent. I would probably coo to it like a baby if the garage door weren't open. My neighbors probably wouldn't appreciate that too much. We've got a reputation to uphold, you know. Everyone already thinks that I'm a delinquent, and they've seen Vernon, so we've got to work extra hard to make sure we aren't kicked off the island.

I swung my leg over the bike and placed my feet on the pedals. I felt so powerful. Like I could just hop onto my bike and go anywhere in the world, and do anything I had ever wanted to. I felt like I could be the queen. It was, perhaps, the only thing I truly missed while I was away at Hogwarts.

Of course, I missed my parents, and _maybe_ I even missed Petunia a small bit, only for lack of a punching bag. But my _bike_? If Dumbledore allowed any form of Muggle transportation, I would have packed the thing up in an instant. I could store it on one of the girls' bed in the dorm. I'm sure they wouldn't mind at all.

My legs pushed on the pedals, propelling the bike out of the garage and down the driveway. I was feeling especially daring today, so I decided to take a left instead of the usual right, and followed the tree-lined street for a ways, then took a right. After a while, the houses began to grow bigger and farther apart. Gone were the perfectly groomed lawns and the kids playing in the street. These houses were more like mansions and instead of lawns there were massive gardens. There were no children in sight.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and it seemed like I had only passed one house. How far had I gone? I'd never even been down to this part of town before...if you could really call it that. It was more like a gated community of the rich and famous. I must have been at least ten miles from my comforting little neighborhood. And, man, I was getting so hungry.

I considered stopping at the next house and asking for a cold glass of water, but decided against it. There could be creepers living in the house. Besides, Mummy always told me not to knock on random strangers' doors. I would just turn around and head straight home. Petunia was probably worrying by now. Scratch that. She was probably cleaning out my closet of all my possessions and filling it with her own.

I was just about to make a very wide U-turn in the street when something caught my eye. From where I was, it looked like a well-stocked fruit stand along the side of the road. Very carefully, I propped my bike on the curb—wouldn't want to scratch it, or anything—and meandered over to the stand.

The thing looked brand new. The paint wasn't faded or peeling, and the wood of the stand didn't seem to be splintered or rotted at all. Curious. Then my eyes fell on the fruit, and my mouth immediately started watering. Apples, peaches, nectarines, oranges, and bananas littered the little stand. Not one of them had a bruise or blemish on it. The apples looked especially delicious: big, red, and juicy, just the way I liked them.

I fished through my pockets for some money. All I had was a couple of galleons. I looked at the little locked box that was labeled "money", and shrugged. What the heck? No one was here. No one would know that it was me who put gold coins in a box. I'm sure they'd be grateful. I dropped the money into the box, grabbed an apple, and went back to my bike.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of black among the trees behind the stand. I froze for a second, my eyes locked on the spot where I'd seen the movement. Normally one's first instinct would be to get on the bike and get the hell out of there, but not me. I stood there and waited until I saw something—someone—emerge from the trees. He was a boy (obviously) about my age with longish black hair, and carrying an enormous black bag. I felt my whole body relax as he got closer, and his face became clearer.

"Sirius!" I exclaimed, excited to see that it was him and not some serial rapist. "What are you doing here? Do you live down this direction?"

Sirius looked uncomfortable for some reason. He ruffled his hair nervously—a habit he had picked up from his best mate, James Potter. Barf. "Er, yeah. Just down that road..." He pointed in the opposite direction of where I had come from.

"Really? I had no idea!" Why was I acting so happy? I hate the stupid bloke! "So how has your summer been?"

"Er, pretty fair. I've been staying with James, so we're never really bored." He cracked a little smile. Then he gestured to the apple in my hand. "Are you going to eat that, or are you just holding it for effect?"

I smiled sheepishly, and nodded. "Right." I opened my mouth, and then decided that I was being terribly rude by not offering him one. "Do you want one?" He shook his head. I raised the apple. "Are you _sure_?" He gave me a look. "Oh, alright."

Slowly, I bit into the apple.

Now we all know the story of Snow White and how she accepted a delicious-looking apple from an old lady who just happened to be traveling in the woods. Well, in my defense, I had not accepted this apple from a suspicious old lady; I'd gotten it from a healthy-looking fruit stand in the middle of nowhere. That was perfectly acceptable in common society!

As soon as my teeth broke the skin of the unusually juicy apple, I knew something was very wrong. Sirius was watching me intently, and nervously, like he was waiting for something, and my vision suddenly became very foggy. My head spun. I felt like I was on one of those sickening spinning apple rides at the fair. How ironic.

Only then did a few things start to register in the back of my mind. First, Sirius lived with James, so if Sirius was here James was also here. The thought alone made my stomach queasy with dread or...something. Second thing: why would Sirius be carrying a human-sized black bag with him through the woods? Normally, a 17-year-old boy wouldn't lug around something like that unless he was going on a bear hunt, and if that were the case, he sure would be disappointed. There are no bears around here. But then again, Sirius wasn't exactly normal. The third issue: why was there a brand new fruit stand in the middle of nowhere? Talk about a bad business decision. These people were obviously not looking for a major moneymaker. And finally, my parents were going to think I died.

The last thing I remember was Sirius saying, "It's for your own good, Evans. Trust me." Those were words that you didn't want to hear from Sirius Black.

He hefted the gigantic bag, and then everything went, unfortunately, black.

_A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of 'Napped! I know most of you were expecting a different story (the one that won the poll) but this idea hit me a little while after I posted the last chapter of Joined at the Hip, and I decided to run with it. _

_This fic is not going to be as long as Joined at the Hip was. The estimated length is 10 to 12 chapters. That being said, I somehow always manage to drag it out as long as possible. But I can assure you it's going to be fantastic. With that in mind, I want to set a goal of 150 reviews. I'm hoping we can bring it up to 200, but I'll take whatever I can get._

_So tell me what you think! Do you guys have any ideas, predictions, suggestions...? I'm open to anything! Like it? Hate it? Want to frame it? Let me know! REVIEW! _

_Haha thanks so much for reading!_

_Love,_

_Livelier_


	2. Mysterious Arguements

_A/N: Wow! I got a great response to the first chapter! Thank you very much to the following people who reviewed: Smile-Pass it on, DarlingILoveYou, fearlessforevermore, Lkay09, JustYourAverageWitch, cemaciver, Rogue Deceiver, The Musical Fool, ChibiLady, okok123, and Zakuro46! If you favorited or subscribed, thank you so very much for that! Now, on with the next chapter! Enjoy! Don't forget to review! _

Chapter 2: Mysterious Arguments

When I woke up, I felt very disoriented. I opened my eyes, expecting to see color or _something_, but all I saw was black. Had the apple made me blind? I closed my eyes and opened them again. Still nothing. Sweet mother of Merlin. I began to hyperventilate. How could I not _see_? It's what you _do_ with eyes. Unless I didn't have eyes. My breathing picked up its pace. I was going to absolutely, positively _murder_ Sirius. He wouldn't even know what hit him. The stupid bastard blinded me!

I shifted to my knees so I could stand up, and immediately fell flat on my face. What the hell? I tried to move my feet. Neither of them would separate. It was like they were magnetized to each other. I attempted the same thing with my hands, and unsurprisingly, I got the same result. Awesome. So he stuck my bloody limbs together as well. Yet another reason to hate him.

I was about to scream something totally inappropriate out, in hopes that he would hear, but a sound caught my attention. It sounded like voices. More importantly, it sounded like guys' voices. They were too quiet for me to recognize at first, but I could tell that there were only two voices involved in the conversation.

My hands felt blindly around me, trying to find contact with a wall or a door.

"Ouch!" I muttered. My finger had connected straight on with something very hard, most likely a door, judging by the grooves. I pressed my ear up against it just in time.

"Prongs, can I borrow a pair of shoes? Your dog decided that he didn't particularly like this pair," a new, much louder voice said. I hadn't really focused on anything other than the "Prongs" part. Why on earth would anyone name his or her child after an animal? But the name sounded _so_ familiar!

Prongs and the other unknown person laughed. "Sure, Moony. Just grab some from my closet."

"NO!" a voice cried. I now recognized the voice almost immediately. After all, he had convinced me to eat a poisoned apple just the day before. Sirius Black. My fists balled up involuntarily.

"I don't know why you're complaining, Padfoot," Moony said, and I could hear his footsteps nearing the door I was leaning against, "brown is hardly your color."

The door creaked open, and I fell backwards onto my back. There was a gasp, and then the door shut again. Damn. Well there went my chance to escape this place.

"James...why is Lily Evans in your closet?" the voice that must have belonged to Remus asked tentatively, like he was unsure he wanted to know.

"WHAT?"

I could hear Sirius chuckle nervously. "Er, yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that..."

"Damn straight you wanted to talk to me about that!" Then James lowered his voice to a hiss. "_What the hell did you do?_"

"It's for the best, Prongs. Really. I swear."

I could picture James rolling his eyes. "Just curious, but since when is kidnapping 'the best'?" His voice was laced full of sarcasm.

"Whoa, there. Kidnapping is a strong word. I like to think of it more as...surprise adoption," Sirius corrected, sounding offended at James's choice of words.

A strange noise escaped someone's mouth—presumably James's—that was some sort of a cross between a disbelieving laugh and an angry snort. "Get out. Both of you," James commanded. "Remus, would you mind telling Mum that we've got a guest? Sirius, you can bet I'm going to tell your mother about this."

Sirius snorted loudly. "She'll probably be proud of me for kidnapping a 'Mudblood'." Something about his voice sounded darker than normal. "I'm hungry. I wonder if Tina made more cobbler..."

"Out!"

"Right. Okay, bye, Prongsie!" And then in a louder voice, he yelled out, "Bye, Lily!"

I rolled my eyes. "Screw you, Black!" I called back to him. He just laughed and then shut the door. A few seconds later the door in front of me was opened, and my blindness was removed. Turns out, it was just a black scarf over my eyes. Huh, strange.

Standing in front of me was the one and only James Potter. Blech. _Avada Kedavra_ me now.

He offered me a small smile, pulled out his wand, and began to undue the enchantments that had bound my legs and arms together. I rubbed my wrists although there had been nothing there. He held out his hand. I hesitantly took it and pulled myself up to my feet.

"Are you okay?" James asked. He looked genuinely worried. I felt the urge to laugh at him. He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm really sorry about this. I had no idea..."

I shook my head at him. "I'm fine. It's not your fault that your best friend is a moronic bastard intent on dying at a very young age." And then I added, "Thanks."

The almost-conversation lapsed into an awkward silence. I felt like someone should burst in and start whistling old show tunes. I looked around me to avoid his eyes. It became clear that we were standing in the center of his massive Gryffindor themed room. A large four-poster bed covered with maroon and gold bedding was the centerpiece of the room. The walls were plastered with House banners, and posters of his favorite Quidditch teams and players. There was a bumper sticker on the wall that said "Save a Broomstick. Ride a Quidditch player." I couldn't resist laughing quietly to myself about that one. On the bookcase in the corner stood dozens of pictures of James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter at various places. But the largest picture wasn't of any of them.

It was a sketch...of me in sixth year. I was curled up on one of the sofas by the fireplace in the common room, reading a book and sipping hot cocoa. There was nothing special about it really. My hair was stacked in a messy bun on top of my head, and I was dressed in my favorite red velour sweat suit that I had gotten for Christmas from my best friend, Alice, that year. But there was something about it that just screamed happiness.

Bloody freaking hell. He was sketching pictures of me? Granted, it was a very good sketch. I looked pretty sexy, if I do say so myself, but the whole situation was rather stalkeresque. It was most definitely something Snape would do, and that creeped me out even further. I pointed at the picture and glanced back at James.

"Did you draw this?" I asked curiously. I hadn't known he was an artist. I thought the only things he could do well were mess up his hair, flirt with girls, ride a stupid stick, and ruin my bloody life.

As expected, his hand shot straight to his head, and he began to comb his hair with his fingers like he was going to win some sort of race if one section of his hair was greasier than any other section. I don't know how he kept it so soft and silky and voluptuous. Most of the time touching your hair a lot made it grossly shiny. He must lather, rinse, and repeat twice a day. I considered asking him what product he used, but then decided against it.

James stared at me with wide eyes, and then at the picture. "Er...pssh, no! Why would I draw a picture of you? I mean, it's not that you're not easy to look at, but I wouldn't..." He looked wildly around the room as he faltered to come up with a better excuse. "Um, I have the drawing skills of...a bench. Yeah. A bench."

_What the hell?_ Where did that come from? Had he just looked out the window and seen a bench, and decided that it was an accurate description of his artistic ability? Who does that!

"Do you want food? I want food. Food sounds good. Let's go get food," he said, and began to walk out of the room. "Hopefully Tina made some food."

"If you say 'food' one more time, I'm going to slap you."

"Right. I won't say foo—_it_ again," agreed James. He was almost out the door when he stopped abruptly and turned around. I nearly ran into his very large chest. "I'm sorry. I'm being terribly rude. It's just...when I get nervous I talk about food for some reason. We've never been able to figure out way. I've got the experts and St. Mungo's baffled."

My eyebrows inched up my forehead as my brain registered his words. "Right..." I answered skeptically. I didn't know what else to say.

James grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose like he was trying to block a painful thought. Then, quite unexpectedly, he gripped my shoulders and steered me backwards until I plopped down onto his bed. He stared at the wall for a few moments before turning to me with a troubled expression.

James began to talk. "I'm sorry, Lily. I'm being a complete—"

"—tosser, git, berk, pillock, prat... I could go on if you'd like."

He grimaced at my creative descriptions and shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary, but those adjectives were quite suiting." I nodded my thanks. "You have to understand...I never meant for this to happen. It's not like I asked Sirius to go and kidnap you." Upon seeing my skeptical look, he amended. "Okay, I admit, it's something I would do, but I swear I didn't do it this time, Lily."

I pondered his little confession for a few moments before deciding that, whether I believe him or not, I would just say I did, because that would make things a whole hell of a lot less complicated. "I believe you."

James let out a relieved sigh. "Oh. Good. In that case, can we just...start over, please? Or pretend that none of that happened? You're just here for a friendly visit. No 'surprise adoption' involved."

I couldn't stop myself from making a little derisive snort. In no world would I ever come _here_ for a friendly visit. In fact, I would rather parade around Hogwarts in my green and silver string bikini. Okay, maybe not. But still, a friendly visit? No. That's what a little day trip to my best friend's house would be. This trip was forced by someone whom I'd would enjoy castrating.

Tapping my chin thoughtfully, I found myself nodding slowly. "I think I would like that." What? Why was I saying that? I didn't remember giving my brain a conscious command to agree to this!

He sighed, wearily this time, and shook his head in a disappointed manner. "Really, Lily, I'm—wait, what did you just say?" asked James with a confused look on his face.

I hadn't meant to say it, but that was just offensive. Is it really that impossible to believe I'm making an attempt to be somewhat kind to him? I'm not a _total _trollop*. "I said," I repeated, enunciating my words properly, "'I think I would like that'. Did you get it that time, or would you like another repeat?"

Still looking like he'd just been hit in the back of the head with a bludger, he gave me an incredulous look. "You mean you don't completely despise me? You don't reckon I'm a total git? A wanker? A prat?"

"Not at the moment, but if you don't stop with the adjectives my opinion might change," I threatened, but it didn't hold the same weight as my threats used to.

James looked totally awestruck. "Lily Evans is going to try to be my friend... Weird."

"Frienemy," I corrected before things could get too out of hand. "But don't push it. I'm under the influence of a poisoned apple." He gave me a curious look. "Don't even ask."

He didn't, which I was glad for. James just grinned, and stood up, offering me his arm. "Well, in that case, welcome to the Potter Manor!"

Manor? I should've known. What did I get myself into this time?

_A/N: What did you think? It's quite short (I just could not find a way to drag it out any more) but I think it's full of important information. I suppose it is more of a filler chapter than anything else, though. The juicy stuff is coming up next week. __ Please leave me a REVIEW to let me know what you thought. That would be greatly appreciated! If you are going to favorite or subscribe, it would be awesome if you could just add a little review onto that for me. It doesn't have to be long. I just want to make sure everyone is pleased with the way it is going to far. Thanks everyone! I hope this one is as successful as Joined at the Hip was._

_Xoxo_

_Livelier_


	3. Potter Charm

_A/N: Two chapters down, eight to go. Thank you muchly to all the people who reviewed last week! Those people are: Smile-Pass it on, okok123, Lkay09, TheMusicalFool, Zakuro46, MaryandMerlin, LIZIES, cemaciver, Vgh (Curious name...), Frenzied Warrior, Fearlessforevermore, ChibiLady, Sparkle Ninja27, and hpfan! Sorry if I missed anyone... Also, if you subscribed or favorited, that is also greatly appreciated. Moving on!_

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter nor am I in any way affiliated with it or JKR. Unless "affiliation" is also described as constantly writing letters to her in hopes that I get a reply. _

Chapter 3: Potter Charm

I suppose I should have expected something along these lines. I mean I knew the Potters were rich. It wasn't exactly hard to miss with James prancing around in his custom robes, handmade shoes, and top of the line brooms. But I didn't realize just how rich they were until James decided that we should head down for dinner. (He told me on the way down that Sirius had arrived back from his little adventure late last night, and I'd probably been tied up and unconscious in his closet since then.)

On the way to the kitchen we must have passed five bedrooms and equally as many bathrooms. And we were just in one wing. The "house" (more like a palace in my mind but whatever) was made up of four separate wings: Mr. and Mrs. Potter's wing, James's wing, the guest wing, and the entertainment wing. All four branched off of the main hub of the "house" where the kitchen was located.

James had tried to explain more about the grand history of the "house" along the trek down, but I was too busy staring wildly around me. I got the feeling he didn't care too much either—or really didn't know anything about it—because after about two minutes of disjointed statements and confusing facts he dropped the subject entirely.

"Normally I would've just hopped on my broom and flown out here, but I know you don't like flying so I decided against that today..." James told me as he led me out of the labyrinth and into the bright and open kitchen.

I rolled my eyes. "What's the real reason?"

"Mum would've yelled at me." He shrugged, and I laughed. Of course he was a mama's boy. I could just picture him as a little baby with a blue bib around his neck that said "Mummy's Little Boy".

We sat down around the small table in the kitchen, leaving two spots at the head and foot of the table for his parents. I sat as far away from Sirius as I possibly could.

"Aw, don't want to play footsie with me today, Evans?" Sirius winked at me. It made me want to punch his eye out.

"You're an ass, Black," I threw back at him. Thank Merlin James's parents weren't around to hear that. They probably would have booted me out faster than I could say "Donkey".

My insult didn't even faze him. He just laughed that merry little laugh of his. "Actually, I'm more of a dog. Prongs is the assiest one of all of us, if you want to be technical about it."

"Oh, so you _were _raised by a pack of wolves. I get it now!"

Again, Sirius just laughed the retort off like it was a little irksome fly. Obviously the bloke was very used to insults. If I were him, I would have crawled across the table to slap me already.

"I wouldn't say I was _raised _by them, but I definitely run with them once in a blue moon."

Was he trying to tell me something? I shot him a wary glance, before looking questioningly at James. He was glaring at his best mate across the table. And Remus was a having a coughing fit.

"Er, sorry," Remus said, clearing his throat, "a bit of corn went down the wrong pipe..."

That was strange, seeing as there was no food on the table yet. But was corn what we were having? That sounded positively delicious.

"Right..." I agreed slowly, not sure of and not particularly wanting to know what was going on. Thankfully, right as James opened his mouth to try to explain, his parents waltzed into the room...followed by my family.

I did a double take.

What were _they_ doing here?

My parents, who were dressed in their best clothes, looked like they'd just climbed out of a pile of rubbish next to James's mum and dad. The sad part is Mr. and Mrs. Potter were both wearing relaxed jeans and a t-shirt. My parents were decked out in dress pants, pressed button-down shirts, and Petunia had even decided to wear a dress, which exposed her overly bony legs. She looked even horsier than usual.

Before I could slap myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming, Mrs. Potter floated towards me and gripped my hand tenderly. "You must be Lily. We've heard so much about you."

I blushed, and stuttered something intelligent like, "Er, yeah, same...same here. It's—honor." I sounded as if someone had just shoved a wand down my throat.

Mr. Potter chuckled. "I think you've frightened her, Grace." He extended his weathered hand to me. "I'm Harold. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Not trusting my voice, I just nodded and gave him a smile. Then I turned my attention to my family who were gazing around them in awe behind Grace and Harold. Petunia, however, did her best to look completely disgusted with the prospect of being in a _wizard's_ house. It wasn't working too well for her.

They didn't even notice me staring accusingly at them. I kept my eyes locked on them, willing them to turn and see my silent plead to leave. This is where something like a portable telephone could be of use. I could just send a message to my sister who would immediately open the message and say, "Oh, I'm so very sorry, dear sister, that we are ruining your day. Come, mother and father. We should leave Lily and her hot hunk of a frienemy alone." I could live with that. Well, maybe I could do without that last part. But that was the one part of the proclamation she would be most likely to say.

Only when James tugged on my wrist did I realize that everyone else in the room had sat down and I was standing up, smiling and wearing a dreamy expression. I blushed and sat down. James didn't release my wrist.

"So, Lily, I bet you're wondering why your parents and sister are here," guessed Mrs. Potter, looking at me with a warm smile and a twinkle in her hazel eyes—James's eyes, I observed.

I just nodded, and glared at my family.

"Oh, dear, Grace called us a little while ago and told us not to worry, and that you were here. We chatted for a little while, and then she was nice enough to invite us over for dinner!" My mum smiled happily, as if being invited to the Potter Manor was the greatest honor of her life.

I stared in horror at my mother. Had she just called Mrs. Potter 'Grace'? She was acting as if they'd known each other twenty years not twenty minutes! Next thing you know, my dad's going to be calling James 'son'.

Mrs. Potter waved it away like inviting total strangers into her home for dinner was something they did every other night. "Oh it's nothing! We're just so glad to finally meet Lily. We've heard so much about her."

I wasn't sure whose blush was brighter—James's or mine. I'm going to go ahead and guess that mine way. After all, a fiery temper wasn't all that came along with vivid red hair, unfortunately.

At that precise moment, one of the Potter's house elves appeared at the head of the table with plates of food in her tiny wrinkled hands. Petunia screamed and jumped up from her seat. Within a split second, she was at the opposite corner of the dining room cowering behind Mr. Potter's chair.

She raised a shaky finger and pointed it at the poor creature. "What is _that_?" demanded Petunia rather rudely.

I rolled my eyes at her, and tried my best not to spit something derisive and rude at her—wouldn't want to look like the bullying type in front of the Potters. "Relax, Petunia. She's just a house elf," I said.

"Don't worry, she won't hit you over the head with a pan or anything," Sirius added with a devilish grin. "Bitzy is one of the nice ones."

Petunia looked absolutely terrified. I couldn't help but chuckle at Sirius. He clearly was used to this kind of thing with his brother. Except his fights were probably much more violent. He once came to school after the holidays with a huge scar on his arm. When I asked what happened, he said his brother and him had gotten into an argument about which Quidditch team was going to win the finals.

"Sirius!" Mrs. Potter scolded, but I could tell she found it funny too. "Darling, you can have a seat now," she said to Petunia. Not even my sister could refuse Mrs. Potter's kind smile. "Shall we eat?"

Merlin, I thought she'd never ask. The smell of the mashed potatoes wafting around the room had been taunting me for what seemed like hours. Words were no longer necessary after that. I stacked my plate with mounds of food. Apart from "pass the potatoes, please" and "Sweet mother, this is delicious" I don't think I uttered a single syllable the entire dinner.

By the time Bitzy brought out the dessert—a chocolate sponge cake layered with Ricotta cheese and doused with fresh strawberries—I was ready to burst. It was a very good thing I had decided to wear a baby doll top. If I'd worn anything more fitting, the seams would have ripped and the buttons popped off by now. My shorts weren't so lucky though. The zipper had unzipped itself part way to relieve some of the pressure. I made a mental note to attempt to fix that before I stood up.

My mother looked horrified at my manners. "Lily!" she exclaimed. Then she turned to Mrs. Potter with an apologizing look. "I'm very sorry about her. She's got an obsession with mashed potatoes, and—well, most food, actually. I suppose I should have warned you of that."

Mrs. Potter laughed—a sound that reminded me of wind chimes—and waved her hand at the other boys at the table, including Mr. Potter and my dad. "It's quite alright. I'd say we're fairly used to it. Merlin knows these boys will eat everything in sight. It's good to see someone else get some food for a change."

I was the first one to completely finish everything and scrape my plate clean. I patted my oversized stomach happily. "That was truly delicious, Mrs. Potter," I complimented her. Everyone else in the room echoed my statement. Sirius chimed in a little late with a loud, "Yeah!"

"Oh thank you, dear," Mrs. Potter said, smiling at me again, "But please do call me 'Grace'."

Not likely, but I nodded anyway.

Mum stood up and pushed her chair away from the table. "Thank you very much for inviting us to dinner, Grace. It's been lovely, but we best be going. Tom, Petunia, come on." Petunia didn't have to be told twice. They all got up and began to stride out of the room.

"Hey!" I complained. "Wait for me!" I was having trouble standing up. I felt like a balloon filled with something wet and heavy. Then I remembered my zipper. I reached down to pull it up, but the blasted thing wouldn't budge. I gave it another sharp jerk, which I'm sure looked very strange to everyone at the table, but the bugger didn't dislodge from its very _stuck_ position. Everyone stared at me, most likely trying to guess what I was doing with my hands. I didn't want to know what Sirius was thinking—he had a disgusted expression on his face. It takes a lot for Sirius to look like that.

My Mum turned around to face me. She wore a very confused expression. "You mean you don't want to stay with the Potters?" Mum asked, her brow furrowing.

I stopped fumbling with the bloody zipper. Stay with the Potters? "What do you mean?" I asked. The woman was losing her mind. Why would I stay with them when I have my own house? It's not as if I was living out of a box.

Now it was her turn to look surprised. "Oh. Didn't we tell you?"

I looked around the room. Everybody with the exception of Mr. and Mrs. Potter looked just as confused as I was. "Tell me what?" My voice cracked as it went up an octave.

"Well, you're staying with the Potters until next week of course!" Mum said as if this was the most obvious thing ever. "We even brought you most of your things. They're by the door."

Considering the amount of food I consumed in the past hour, it was hard to believe my brain was even functioning up to this point, but after Mum's first few words, the thing came unhinged. "Wait a minute," I said, holding up my hands. "Did you say _a week_?"

Mum nodded enthusiastically. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Fun? Bloody hell. _Avada Kedavra_ me now.

_A/N: Haha! Don't you just love parents? They can be so incredibly oblivious sometimes. Anyway... What did you all think about this chapter? Hopefully no one hated it, or even disliked. I supposed I could live with neutral feelings. _

_On a more important note: how many of you went to Deathly Hallows this week? I did! I went to the midnight premiere with a few of my friends last night (I suppose it was this morning). What did you guys think? I want to hear your thoughts, because there seems to be some mixed feelings about it. Personally, I absolutely loved it. The cinematography was fantastic! But I don't want to give too much away, so I'm going to stop talking now. If you have seen it, I would love to know your opinion! And—whoa!—you could give me your opinion of the movie and this chapter at the same time! _

_Thanks so much!_

_Livelier_


	4. Sirius's Rules

_A/N: Hey there. I hope all of my American readers enjoyed their Thanksgiving yesterday. You all ate lots of yummy food, I presume? I sure did. Speaking of Thanksgiving, I am so grateful for everyone who reviewed or favorited or subscribed last week. Special thanks go out to the following reviewers: Weird Shmeird, Zakuro46, DarlingILoveYou, Frenzied Warrior, Smile-Pass it on, Kaiaa, hpfan, JustYourAverageWitch, MaryandMerlin, Lkay09, LIZIES, The Musical Fool, and crazywrita123. I'm sorry if I missed anyone! _

_On with the story!_

_Disclaimer: Unfortunately, all the characters or places you recognize are not mine. __Sad day. _

Chapter 4: Sirius's "Rules"

You know your parents are A-class when they leave you and your fully packed bags at a gigantic house in the middle of nowhere for a week with some people they've known for an hour at best. And they didn't even care! There was no "see you in a week, honey!" or "we'll miss you!" or even a good-natured "behave yourself". I obviously didn't even deserve a hug.

Apparently my parents and the Potters had talked about this on the phone before dinner, and it had all been arranged. I would stay here until next Tuesday, just one day after we get our supply lists, my badge, and course schedules. We would all go to Diagon Alley on that day, and then from there I would Apparate home so I would be able to spend the last week with my wonderfully loving family.

To be honest, I kind of wanted to take a hold of my trunk and Apparate the hell out of here as soon as my parents stepped over the threshold, but I didn't want to be rude to Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Plus, that would probably upset the whole "frienemy" thing I had going on with James—not that I cared.

There was a pat on my shoulder and I spun around to face Sirius, who was looking unrightfully gleeful, like this had been in his plan all along. That's when I realized something.

"SIRIUS BLACK!" I shrieked with rage, and hit him in the arm. "Oh, where is my wand? I cannot _believe _you! I couldn't imagine—not even _you_ could stoop to this level! What did you do to my parents?"

He held up his hands in mock innocence, palm facing towards me. "I swear, I didn't do anything to your family...illegal," Sirius tacked on at the last minute. "OW! Mother—!"

Thank God the Potters had left the room. They probably would not have enjoyed the stream of insults mixed with expletives I spewed at Sirius that drowned out the rest of his exclamation. Even Sirius and James were cringing. Remus was hiding in the corner laughing.

"I just Confunded them a little...nothing harmful, I swear!" Sirius pleaded with me. "Ouch—damn, Evans, you hit hard for a girl." That only made me hit him harder.

"Throw your shoulder into it more, Lily," James recommended from the sidelines, giving me a thumbs up. "It will give you more leverage."

"Not helping, Prongs!" Sirius yelled. He cringed as I took James's advice. "Yep. That definitely helped. Thanks, man."

"No problem!" James replied, quite chipper for a guy whose best mate was getting a beating from a five foot four inch seventeen-year-old girl.

Sirius let out a strangled groan as I pummeled his chest with my fists. I tried not to let on just how much it was hurting my hands. My knuckles were turning an unappealing shade of bright red. "Last one," I promised as I let loose another punch. My fist didn't hit his arm dead-on so I decided to try again. This one caught him off guard, and he fell over, clutching his arm. "That's better."

I dusted my hands off, stepped over his body to retrieve my trunk, and headed off in the direction I hoped was James's room. If it wasn't...well, I was pretty screwed.

Mrs. Potter set me up in one of the guest suites in James's wing of the house just down the hall from his room—his parents didn't find it appropriate to have me in the room right next door.

The room was easily twice the size of mine at home; the ensuite bathroom was more similar in size to my room. The closet was a close second. I could have hung every article of clothing in my trunk on a separate rack in the closet, and I probably would have had room to spare. It was ridiculous! I loved it! I flopped down on my plush, down feather bed, and ran my hands over the sheets—1000 thread-count Egyptian cotton, no doubt—while I contemplated paradise. If this wasn't it, I didn't know what was.

The illusion was ruined when Sirius burst into my paradise covered in yellowish-green bruises and several bandages.

"Thanks for knocking," I muttered, sarcasm laced through my voice.

Sirius made a pouting face. "Lilllyyy," he whined pathetically, "Everyone forgot all the healing spells, but I know you couldn't possibly forget them because you study too much to do something like that. Please help me!"

I gave him a weary look. "Why don't you ask Mrs. Potter to help you?" I suggested mostly to get him out of my room. His presence was disrupting my mellow.

"She forgot all the healing charms! Weren't you listening?" He didn't say it, but his tone implied the _duh_.

"But she's a healer."

Sirius shook his head. "I know. It's all rather strange."

Merlin that boy was an idiot. But I felt kind of bad for the poor kid, so I offered to think about it and then get back to him. "Give me a couple of hours to think about it," I said.

"Okay," Sirius shrugged, no longer that little boy who didn't get his toy train for Christmas. "In the mean time, I suppose I should probably let you in on the rules of the Potter Manor."

Rules? Since when did Sirius care about rules? And more importantly, there was a Potter who obeyed rules? When I asked Sirius about it, he said, "Nah, these are more my rules than anything else, and they're more like guidelines."

Oh fantastic. Sirius Black made a set of rules. This ought to be interesting. They probably went a little something like: "Three pranks must be pulled over the course of a week" or "every other week is be-nice-to-Sirius-week". I couldn't wait to hear this.

Sirius drew a huge breath before he spoke. "Rule number one: Running, skipping, hopping, flying...etcetera, with socks on is perfectly acceptable. If you fall and knock out a tooth...well, let's just hope we can find it and stick it back in there."

I rolled my eyes. How thoughtful of him.

He raised two fingers, and began rambling off the next rule. "Rule number two: Midnight rendezvous about the house and/or grounds are highly encouraged, and sometimes even required. Unfortunately, there is not a huge, cavernous set of kitchens filled with food-cooking, treacle tart-baking elves, so we just have to settle for the pantry."

"Oh, shucks!" I mumbled, snapping my fingers.

Sirius glowered at me. "I will not have that pessimistic attitude, Miss Evans!" he exclaimed. "_Anyhoo_, moving on to rule number three... Mature, lady-like behavior is _never_ to be displayed in my presence, or that of the Marauders...except for Remus. He doesn't like to be the only one acting like a prim and proper little girl, which is why Pete is usually here."

That reminded me. "Where is Peter anyway?" I asked. It was a rare occurrence when he wasn't gallivanting after the other Marauders, worshipping the very ground they walk on. I felt bad for the boy; compared to Remus, James, and Sirius, he was exceptionally under whelming, and even untalented. The other boys were all tall, good-looking (as much as I hated to admit it), and smarter than anyone with that level of maturity ought to be. Could that be why Peter liked to hang out with them?

Sirius just waved his hand and shrugged that off. "Who knows? Anyway. Here goes rule number four: snogging the gender of the opposite variety is an everyday occurrence. It's one of the things we Marauders pride ourselves on. Except for Remus. He thinks it's 'degrading' and 'misleading' and 'terribly piggish'. Pssh. What does he know? Other than every word in the dictionary."

"Obviously much more than you do," I pointed out. I resisted the urge to add that this feat wouldn't take much. After all, Sirius is the same one who decided that it would be a good idea to slip some extra powdered Graphorn to Evan Rosier's potion during a double block of Potions with the Slytherins. Rosier ended up in the Hospital Wing for a week, and Sirius earned a month worth of detention. But on the bright side, we got out of class that day!

"Ready for rule number five? Pay very close attention to this one. Open your ears, Evans, put on your thinking cap. Here it comes... What happens in the Potter Manor _stays_ in the Potter Manor." He gave me a pointed look, like this specifically applies to me. "Got that, Evans?" he barked.

I glared at him in response, and flipped him the bird. I may have muttered something else, too.

Sirius stood up—_finally_—to leave the room. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned around to give me one last piece of "advice". I don't know how he managed it, but somehow he was able to keep a straight face while he said, "If I were you, I'd get started on your lip exercises, Evans, because day one of your time at the Potter Manor starts now."

My jaw dropped with an audible pop, and Sirius grinned mischievously, like he had some sinister plot tucked in his back pocket. He couldn't really be serious, could he? No pun intended.

He waggled his meaty fingers at me. "Ta-ta!" And with that, he left me alone in my former paradise.

Needless to say, I locked my door and my window, shut my blinds, and turned off the light. Maybe they would forget I was here and just leave me here for the next six days to starve and die. That option was preferable to snogging Sirius Black. A little lip action with Remus and James wouldn't kill me, and I might even be able to tolerate it, but there was no way in heaven or hell that Sirius Black was getting his smackers any where near me.

I sighed as I curled into a ball on my bed and dragged the covers over my head. But of course, I couldn't stay in the fetal position for longer than a few short minutes, so I flopped over onto my other side and tried to get comfortable again. No such luck. I pounded the pillow with my fists in order to fluff it, but every time I laid my head on it, my head—maybe it needs to lose some weight—would sink into it so far the pillow would surround my face and smother me. And in case you didn't know, that is never a good thing.

I was just beginning to get comfortable on my cloud of a bed when a few knocks on the door sent me flying into a flurry. I hurled myself out of the bed, and into the corner of the room between it and the wall.

What if it was Sirius at the door? I checked the clock. It was nearly midnight, and I had yet to be snogged. He said it was daily occurrence and day one had just started. Did that mean...? I shuddered at the thought of it. In the process, my skull banged against the wall. A loud "Merlin" came out before I could clamp my hand over my traitor mouth.

The unknown person knocked again. "Lily?" a deep voice called. It sounded like James, but I couldn't be sure. Sirius could have charmed his voice to sound like his best mate's. "Are you okay?" The door handle rattled ominously. I felt like I was in some sort of Muggle horror film, and in seconds, the bad guy carrying the dagger would somehow appear right next to me.

I didn't answer. Maybe he—whoever he was—would just leave. That would be ideal.

"Lily," his tone was disapproving now, "I know you're in there. I can _hear_ you." It was most definitely James. Even with a disguised voice, Sirius could never pull off such a caring tone of voice.

So I decided to risk it. If it really was Sirius waiting at the door to assault me, I had my wand this time so I could potentially inflict much, _much_ more lasting damage. I flung the door open with my wand at the ready, and sure enough, James was standing there looking worried and more like a puppy-dog than anyone had a right to.

"What happened?" he asked right away, walking into my room without invitation. Oh Merlin. What if _he_ was here to get a snog? "I just heard something crash. What was it?"

My hand automatically went to the tender spot on the back of my head. Now that I was thinking about it, it was really quite painful. "That would have been my head...hitting a wall," I answered, taking a seat next to him on my bed. "But I'm okay now."

James grinned, and reached up to feel the bump on my head. His fingers were gentle and soft, and they felt quite good against the sore spot. "Liar." He laughed, and I closed my eyes. "So why wouldn't you let me in?"

"I thought you were Sirius coming to molest me."

His hand dropped from my head as he chuckled. I grabbed it, and brought it up to the tender site. "Let me guess," said James, "Sirius read you his rules, didn't he?"

"Bingo."

With James's free hand, he conjured up an ice pack with his wand, and stuck it to the back of my skull. I lay down with the ice pack pinned between the bed and my head so I wouldn't have to hold it there. James followed suit tentatively. I let my eyelids drift closed.

"You know," James said in an offhand tone of voice, "we only followed rule number four for a few days when Sirius first moved in with us in fifth year. It's not exactly the easiest thing to keep up."

"How so?" I asked. They didn't seem to have any trouble keeping it up during the school term at Hogwarts. In fact, we must have caught them with 20 different girls during patrols last year. I always took off ten house points and assigned them detention, and then I didn't file the detention in the book at the end of patrols. I can be a nice person, believe it or not.

"Notice the lack of girls here?" James pointed out. "Since my mum and Bitzy were off limits, we were pretty much left with Moony's cat and my owl."

I laughed merrily. I would have loved to see that. "I suppose Sirius was not too thrilled about that, was he?"

Instead of seeing the side-to-side motion of James's head, I felt it. Then I yawned tiredly. It seemed like my lips stretched a kilometer or so before they came back together.

"You should go to sleep, Lily," James suggested.

I wasn't going to object. "Okay. Goodnight."

He chuckled, and I felt his weight leave the bed. I bounced a little bit as it rose back to its proper position. There was dead silence in the room for a moment or two, and then I felt something silky and soft brush my forehead. It kind of tickled.

My hand blindly reached up to grope his face, my fingers tracing over his eyes and nose. I found his cheek—it was unbelievably smooth—and patted it gently first. Then my hand dragged itself away from his face and then quickly back to his cheek with a soft _smack._

"Ouch," James muttered to himself. "Padfoot was right. You do hit hard."

I smiled slightly to myself as I listened to his feet pad across the room, pleased.

"Goodnight, Lily," James murmured, and then a few seconds later, the door clicked, and I fell into a deep slumber.

_A/N: I am actually cringing right now. This is definitely not my best chapter ever. It is longer, though, that is a plus. I don't know, maybe everything just seems a lot worse because I read Deathly Hallows again recently and most things tend to pale in comparison. Well, tell me what you think. You guys have been great at reviewing this story so far. I'm averaging 13 reviews each chapter, which is pretty good! So thank you for that. Let's keep it going! _

_Thanks everyone! Review!_

_Livelier_


	5. Quidditch for Dummies

_A/N: Guess what? I'm a day early! Isn't that exciting? Oh, whatever. Thanks to the following people for reviewing: crazywrita123, okok123 (haha, last time I checked 4, 5, 6 came after 123...yeah, lame joke), Wondering Hail, Loslote, cemaciver, drumergirl, Zakuro46, Frenzied Warrior, MaryandMerlin, amazinglyme424, DarlingILoveYou, Smile-Pass it on, C.E. Sparks, and The Musical Fool. Also, gigantic thanks goes out to all those who subscribed or favorited! On with the story!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, the story's plot is mine but everything else belongs to JKR. Except for Big Macs and a certain fat clown. That belongs to McDonald's. Anyhoo._

Chapter 5: Quidditch for Dummies

Much to my displeasure, I was awoken the next morning by my worst nightmare: a fatheaded teenage bloke's arse plunked on my poor little stomach, effectively knocking the breath out of me.

"Wakey wakey, Evans!" Sirius exclaimed as he bounced up and down happily while perched on my mid-torso area. "Time for breakfast!"

Still half asleep, I raised my fists and began feebly pounding on Sirius's arm. "Go away. It's Lily's" —insert gigantic yawn here— "beauty sleep time." I yawned once more, and my eyelids drifted closer together again.

Sirius snorted rudely, and barked out a laugh. "Beauty sleep? You must not get much of it at home, because you are a right bloody mess." One of my eyes popped open and I lifted my balled up hands again. "Oh no, not the fists again."

Still keeping just one eye open, I tried futilely to shove Sirius off my body. The blasted bloke weighed a ton. "Get your fat arse off me, Black!" I ordered groggily, trying again to push him away. "Jesus, Black, what do you eat? Super sized McDonald's Big Macs?"

Sirius gasped in horror and jumped up with his hands placed gingerly on his butt. "I do no such thing!" he cried, and then he paused. "Wait, what's McDonalds? It sounds like some sort of...fat clown."

I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow. Spasms of laughter were rocking my body. It probably looked like I was having a seizure to Sirius. Merlin, where did this boy come up with these things? He surely couldn't just pull them out of the empty space he calls a brain. But it's quite plausible that his cranium is filled with random and offensive phrases such as that instead of empty space. That would explain so much.

"Er...are you okay, Lily? Should I...call someone?" Sirius asked tentatively, hovering over me with a concerned look on his face. It was the first time I'd ever seen him worried. But I could hardly pay attention to his facial expressions when images of an overly obese clown plagued my mind.

"Perfect. Brilliant." I gasped for breath between bouts of laughter. "Perfectly brilliant, actually." Knowing it was impossible for me to fall back asleep after that, I sat up in bed and threw the covers aside. Any other time, I would have cared that Sirius was seeing me in a skimpy top and bootie shorts, but not then. "You're killin' me, Black. Killin' me," I said, patting his shoulder as I slumped past him into the bathroom.

Only when I turned around to tell him to go downstairs for breakfast without me did I notice the long, wooden object he held in his hands. The sight of it sobered me up instantly.

"What the hell is that?" I asked blankly. The words slipped out although I knew exactly what it was, and I did not like it one bit.

Sirius grinned devilishly. "It's a broomstick," he answered, waggling his eyebrows.

The bumper sticker on James's wall came to mind. "Save a broomstick. Ride a Quidditch player." I don't know what made me say it, but suddenly I was opening my mouth to inform him, "I am not riding you, Black." As soon as the words were out, I wanted to bang my head on the wall again, and hope I was out for good this time.

The bloody git smirked and winked at me. "Wasn't suggesting it, Evans. James wouldn't like that too much, eh?" He turned to leave. At the door, Sirius spun around again. "But, you know, if you ever feel like it..."

"OUT!" I ordered, pointing at the open door.

Sirius rightfully ducked out of the room. I heaved a sigh, thinking he was finally gone, only to see his head pop back in. "Just one last thing. You might want to wear some padded knickers or something. Broomstick aren't the most comfortable on your...you know." He smirked again. "Oh and, Evans?"

"WHAT?" I roared. I sounded more like a lion that any teenage (human) girl had the right.

"You look like a tomato," Sirius pointed out bluntly.

"ARGGGHH!" The door banged shut as I flung the nearest hard, potentially painful object at him. It hit the closed door with a deafening crack and then fell pathetically to the ground. Turns out, the hard, potentially painful item was my favorite book.

Sod it all.

After eating breakfast, (or having a muffin shoved down my throat —however you chose to look at it) Remus, Sirius, and I headed out to the back garden. It didn't surprise me one bit to see a small-scale Quidditch pitch constructed out behind the house. James was already out there zooming around his new, top of the line broom. We could hear him imitating a crowd as he tossed a big red ball around to himself, and then sent it soaring through the hoops. He took a victory lap around the pitch, yelling, "JAMES POTTER SCORES! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! AND THE CROWD GOES WILD! "

That's about the time he noticed us down on the ground.

James touched down gracefully and shouldered his broom. He looked rather flustered —whether it was from his extremely strenuous flight or discovering that we were watching him behave like a crazed First Year after his first Quidditch match, I don't know. The latter was my best guess, though.

"Hey," James greeted me. "You're up." He sounded rather surprised that I wasn't still asleep at the obscene hour of nine o'clock.

I sent a glare in Sirius's direction. "I wouldn't be if it weren't for his"—I hooked my thumb towards his best mate—"blasted arse, and a fat clown," I grumbled bitterly.

James regarded the two of us warily. "Er, what...? Actually, I'm fairly certain I don't want to know," he decided.

"Good choice."

Sirius rubbed his hands together eagerly and grinned. "So, Prongsie, where are we going to start?"

I snorted loudly. "Prongsie?" That's not gay at all.

They all ignored me.

"I think we should start with the basics," James answered. Then in a lower voice, he added, "As in, the _most_ basic." As if to prove his point, James turned to me. "Lily, can you tell me what the object of the game Quidditch is?"

Not sure how to answer that, I guessed. "Er, to win?"

Sirius looked at James, absolutely ashamed to be within ten meters of me. "I think you're right. This one is going to need a lot of work." James nodded his agreement, and they headed off to the shed at the other end of the pitch.

"Hey!" I cried out. "I'm still here!"

Remus patted me on the back as he shook his head sadly. "I'm really sorry about this, Lily," he said, sounding as if something tragic was about to occur (Were those charming Death Eaters on the move?). Then he ran to catch up with James and Sirius.

I was left there alone to contemplate what the idiots—well, Remus wasn't an idiot—had said to me. "What is that even supposed to _mean_?" I asked nobody, throwing my arms in the air in frustration. "Bloody wankers."

Ten minutes later, I had my answer.

All four of us were huddled in the shed, which also served as a locker room, going over the basic rules of Quidditch. They had given me a five-question test, consisting of the most crucial, vital rules of the game. Needless to say I failed it. It was rather pathetic, really.  
The test went a little something like this: "What are the names of the balls used in the game?"

I had scratched my head over that one. Finally, I came up with something I hoped was close. "It's the Blogger, the Waffle, and the Snitch, right?" I had asked, smiling at my cleverness.

Sirius hadn't even attempted to hide his disappointment. James, however, was a little more patient. "Actually, Lily, it's the _Bludger_,_ Quaffle, _and the Snitch," he'd said. Trying to cheer me up, he smiled and said, "But you got one out of three! That's not too bad!"

The next question was the only one I got right. The only way I remembered how many players were on each team was because seven was my favorite number, and Alice had pointed this out to me one day at a game. It was the only thing my brain retained about Quidditch.

"What are the four positions? Shut it, Padfoot." James smacked Sirius upside the head, effectively putting an end to his snickering.

On this question, I should have gotten half credit because I knew two of the four. "The Keeper, the Seeker, the...Oh, I don't know! Can we move on already?"

They obliged and hit me with the next question. James asked this one. "What position do I play?"

I gave this one a good, logical guess. The Seeker always got the most attention, so I figured James would play that part. Something had to feed his excessive ego, right? When I explained that to him, he just glared at me and made another red check mark on his clipboard.

Sirius asked the last question, and it was the same as the previous one. I had no idea, but I wasn't about to put any thought into it. So, in my best attempt to piss him off, I answered innocently, "Waterboy?" He looked ready to explode and take me out with him.

So now, we were reviewing all the questions I had missed, and James was drawing complicated patterns and procedures on a big chalkboard in front of me and going on about all these clever plays he made last term. I hoped he understood this was all going in one ear and out the other.

After about twenty minutes, James decided we were ready to head out onto the pitch and get to the real thing. He pulled three spare brooms out of the cabinet, and distributed them to Sirius, Remus, and I. Apparently, Sirius and Remus already had their dedicated brooms, so I got the leftover. James shouldered his shiny, special broom and we all followed suit.

In the center of the pitch, there was an ornate wooden chest sitting on the grass. It encased two Bludgers, one Quaffle, and of course, the golden Snitch (see, I did learn something!). Also in it, were some miniature baseball bat looking things. James gave one of these to Sirius.

Then he turned to me. "You remember how to fly, don't you?" he asked me with a smile. The bastard was probably remembering first year when Madam Hooch taught us to fly. I had been the last one to get my broom to respond to the "Up!" command, and when it finally did, I wasn't prepared so it smacked me in the face. Let's just say it wasn't a very good time in my life for me.

I nodded nervously, staring at the stick of wood I held in my hands, silently willing it to be nice to me. "I think so," I lied.

James nodded. "Right, well I'll help you out anyway," he said, although it was probably just an excuse to put his hands on mine and guide me like they do in all those corny romance books. "Sheila here is an older model so she won't be too hard to control. She's not a very touchy thing."

Sheila? Really? I decided not to bring it up with him. But the way he said her name with such affection was slightly disturbing. It made me wonder why he had named the thing Sheila. Maybe he shared his crayons with a little blonde girl with that name when he was little and he had always harbored a secret fancy of her since. Who knows?

He helped me mount the broom, and re-taught me how to steer and brake and such things. When I was able to recite to him the exact procedure, he told me to gently kick off from the ground. Barely pushing with my toes, I shot up into the air, and then stayed hovering there.

James grinned at me. "Great! Now just stay there. I'll be up in a second," he said. He ran over to the crate where he had set his broom.

Tentatively, I chanced a look downward. I wasn't too high up—maybe ten or fifteen feet—but it was enough to make me queasy. A thin branch was not nearly substantial enough to keep me up in the air. I defied everything I know! My feet should be firmly planted on the hard, still ground.

After a few more minutes up there, I actually began to feel quite comfortable. I even went so far as to do a couple of little tricks. And by tricks, I mean simple little figure eights and zigzag patterns in the air.

And that's when the miniature Quidditch match began.

Remus was playing as Keeper, James as Chaser, Sirius as Beater, and me as another Chaser. The first couple of times James tossed it to me I dropped it and James had to zoom to catch it, but then I got the hang of it.

We were an unstoppable team, James and I. Of course, it helped that Remus wasn't exactly the best Keeper in the world. And the best part was that Sirius spent his whole time aiming Bludger after Bludger at James and not me! It was no longer a dream, but a reality!

After a little while of relentless beating of Bludgers in his direction, James flew right up to Sirius, yanked the bat out of his hands and hit the Bludger towards his face.

"Boys, stop hitting each others balls!" I yelled to them, laughing so hard I was doubled over on my broom.

Then I realized something.

I was _laughing_, and _having fun_ with the _Marauders_.

It must have been the muffin.

_A/N: Well, today was pretty craptastic, so I decided to post this a day early in hopes that it would make my day suck just a little less. Personally, I really liked this chapter. I thought Sirius and Lily were hilarious at the beginning, and I always enjoy a little Quidditch thrown in there. _

_You all will have to forgive me for the McDonald's thing. I just had to put it in there. I've no idea when the first Mickey D's opened in London; I tried Google searching it but I got about five different answers. So, I apologize for the possible lack of canon there. The only reason I say this is because I've had people flip out about such things before. _

_This is getting ridiculously long, so I'm going to spare you the usual speech about how much reviews light up my day, and how appreciated they are, because by now, you most likely just gloss over that part, and click on that wonderful little button. Thank you more than I can possibly say!_

_Mucho amor,_

_Livelier_


	6. Rule 2

A/N: Ah, sorry this is a bit late! I was at a party earlier but I decided I should come home early to get this up for you guys (sweet of me, eh?) and I ended up getting sidetracked. But it's here now. Thanks for reviewing to the following lovelies: cemaciver, Frenzied Warrior, Zakuro46, MaryandMerlin, Smile-Pass it on, Loslote, remuslover, Lkay09, DarlingILoveYou, and Kaiaa. Much love also goes out to those who subscribed or favorited! Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Rule #2

It was the fourth night of my weeklong stay at the Potter Manor, and again I found myself lying in bed awake at some God-forsaken hour of night. The digital clock on the nightstand said it was two o'clock in the morning. Bloody hell. I had tried everything. When I tried the counting thing, I got up to 349 sheep, 674 dragons, 1,236 wands, and my most recent attempt, 583 Nifflers. After that, I decided to go over all of the spells I knew, whether they are household charms, defensive spells, or those of the attacking nature. When reciting the notes I had memorized for History of Magic with Professor Binns (he's a ghost, you know) didn't lull me into a deep sleep, I knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With a groan, I dragged myself out of my cloud-like bed. I snatched my wand off of the bedside table, stuffed my feet into some fuzzy slippers, and shoved my arms through the armholes of my deep purple silk bathrobe—a feat in itself seeing as my eyes were closed through this entire process.

Without a clue as to where I was going, I slumped out of the room and down the hall. I paused for a second in front of James's door; was he awake? For a second, I considered opening his door a crack just to peek in and find out, but then decided that if he were awake I wouldn't be able to talk myself out of that particular situation. I could just imagine it.

So I continued down the hall, tiptoeing around every corner and avoiding the creaky steps on the stairs until I reached the main floor. Again, I found myself stopping when I caught sight of the kitchen. I wasn't hungry, quite the opposite really, but the dessert we had earlier was calling to me. There was no resisting the call of Elf-made Pumpkin Pasties. So I hastily grabbed two — okay, three! — Pasties from the refrigerator before anyone could catch me, and darted out of the house and into the back garden.

I followed the brick path past all the flowers and shrubbery and trees, and out to the open expanse of grass with an unobstructed view of the stars. I plopped myself down on the lawn, and began slowly picking apart the Pumpkin Pasty in my hand.

Typical of a summer night in Britain, the air was warm but punctuated with a slight breeze and there wasn't a single cloud in the dark sky. Since the Potters lived so far away from anything else, there were no city lights to lighten the sky, which provided ample sightings of shooting stars.

"Make a wish," a voice said from behind me as a bluish-green light streaked across the night sky. But the brilliant light had fallen over the horizon before I could even begin to form a thought in my head. _I wish for a life filled with happiness_. The wish came too late, but I silently said it anyway, just in case the star was still out there.

James sat down beside me. "Couldn't sleep either?" he offered.

I shook my head. "Nope." My lips popped on the _p._

We lapsed into silence. Obviously, the quiet didn't last long, as it was James Potter sitting there; his mouth ran faster than Snape confronted with shampoo. I think that was the phrase Sirius once used.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" James asked as he settled back into the grass. He spread his arms out, gesturing to our surroundings. His hand hit me in the face during the process. "Oh — sorry, Lils."

"Prat," I muttered, punching him in the arm. I frowned to myself. I was getting rather violent lately. But nearly rendering Sirius incapable of movement from my vicious fighting techniques was rather fun, so I can't really say that I regret that. Plus, he's quite frightened to come anywhere near me now, and that is never a bad thing when we are speaking of Sirius Black.

"Can I ask you something, Lily?"

I rolled my eyes. "You just did," I pointed out bluntly.

"Besides that, I mean."

"No." The word came out before I could stop it. But I couldn't lament that my mouth worked of its own accord. He was probably going to ask me something ridiculous, like "What's your favorite color" or "Want to go out?" But the latter option was least likely; If James hadn't made his move yet, he probably wasn't going to. Which was fine with me. Honestly!

"Well I'm going to ask anyway, okay?"

I wanted to scream at him _if you're going to ask, just ask!_ But I didn't. I just kept my eyes forward as I said, "whatever" in the most bored voice I could muster.

"What did you wish for?" James asked, surprising me with his question. James turned his head to get a good view of me. I could see from the corner of my eye his bright hazel eyes as they bore into the side of my face. Finally, I turned to face him.

"I can't tell you or else it wont come true!" I exclaimed. A traitor smile was tugging at the corner of my lips. Think of death, Lily, think of death.

James made a pouting face. "Aw, come on! Please?"

I drew a line across my pursed lips with my fingers, twisted the imaginary key in the lock, and then tossed it over my shoulder. Shaking my head, I hummed a noise that he interpreted to mean "no way, Potter!" Although, it came out sounding like I had just stuffed my cheeks full of mashed potatoes and tried to sing "Yellow Submarine".

He nudged my side with his rather bony elbow. "It was about me, wasn't it? Something naughty I hope," James said with a sly grin and a suggestive wink.

The memories of Fifth year came surging back with brute force. Sigh. So much for a grown up James. Well, it was nice —as nice as the Cruciatus Curse could be— while it lasted.

"You wish, Potter," I snorted, slipping back into the use of his surname by accident.

"Yeah, I do," he agreed at a much quieter level. I had to strain to hear him.

Was that a trace of wistful longing I detected in his voice? I turned my head to get a better look at him. Behind his wire-rimmed glasses his greenish-brown eyes were filled with something akin to sadness —or perhaps angst— as his eyes locked on mine.

Call me corny, cheesy, off my rocker —whatever— but in that moment, something unspoken passed between us, and I knew everything was changing. Good or bad — Hell if I know. I was book smart! Put me in a library and I could tell you anything and everything you wanted to know. Want to know the name, birthday, and blood status of the girl the Minister of Magic asked to Hogsmeade in fourth year? I'm the girl for you. But if you want to stick me in a room full of testosterone-ruled hormonal teenage boys, I'd probably curl up in the corner and bawl my poor, innocent eyes out.

After a moment or two... or ten, I broke our strangely intimate —Merlin, there's so many things wrong with that— gaze, and looked away. James cleared his throat as I focused my attention on a nearby bush shaped like a... deer?

Pointing a shaky finger towards the leafy figure, I asked James, "What is that and why is it in your garden?"

James followed my eyes to the shrub, and chuckled reminiscently while raking his hand through that messy, black mop piled on top of his head he liked to call hair. "You like it? It's a stag. The men and I" —I scoffed at the use of the word 'men'— "did that during the Easter break. Mum was furious. The old hag took away my broom! But Bitsy has been keeping them pruned for us anyway."

"Them?" That's when I noticed the other three figures flanking either side of the animal. Directly to the left of the stag was an overly large dog, and then on the right was what looked like a werewolf and a rat.

"Are they your Patronuses or something?" I asked curiously, cocking my head to one side. Not going to lie, it made me feel like a ruddy dog. But the question made enough sense; I already knew that James's Patronus was a stag —quite frightening, seeing as mine was a doe— and I was well aware of Remus's "furry little problem".

James scratched his head and looked away uncomfortably. "Er, yeah, something like that..."

Scrutinizing him through narrow slits for eyes, I decided that he was lying —or hiding something, rather. I'd gone to school with him for six years, the last two of which I had been making sure he and his mates weren't lurking around the castle, so one would think I would be able to tell whether or not he was lying.

"You get a dimple in your chin when you lie," I pointed out bluntly.

He sighed and shoved his hand roughly through that mane of his for the billionth time that night. One more time, and he was going to find himself without a hand.

James smirked that signature cocky grin of his that made my heart turn to Lily Pudding and my knees go weak —wait, what? That is not what I meant! I merely wanted to... oh, sod it all.

"Been paying close attention to my face lately, have you, Evans? I can't say that I blame you really. You can thank Mum's side of the family for my superb bone structure," said James haughtily.

Rolling my eyes, I shot back, "No more than my stomach can endure, Potter."

Feigning hurt, James placed one hand over his heart theatrically. "Ouch, Lily. That cut me deep, to the core."

I couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling to my lips. With his brow knitted together and his lips pouting at me like that he was looking more than faintly ridiculous. The blank look that followed wasn't helping him either. Another bout of laughter forced itself from my mouth. "Oh Merlin —your face!" More hysterics.

Looking slightly putout, James glared at me as he started to stand up to leave. Suddenly I went from acting like a drunken bimbo to being as sober as Grandmum Rose on her deathbed.

"No! Don't you dare think of leaving me, James Potter!" I threatened, tugging a little on his hand. "Who else is going to protect me from those serial rapists out there?"

James chuckled despite himself. "Relax, Lily, Sirius is asleep in his bedroom."

My eyes unconsciously went to the window nearest us where Sirius's room was. Remembering the last time I was alone in the middle of nowhere with him, I decided that the couple of meters and thick sheet of glass separating us was not nearly enough. When I faced James again I wore my best wide-eyed, full-lipped, face-of-an-angel look. It took a little longer than expected —he was becoming immune— but eventually he heaved a sigh and sat down again. I smiled to myself. Works like a charm every time.

"That's not even fair," whined James. "You should be banned from giving me that bloody puppy face."

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, still keeping my eyes wide as saucers.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he muttered darkly.

Grinning, I scooted closer to him and rested my head on James's shoulder. Friends did this sort of thing all the time, right? His arm went over my head and came to rest on my shoulder. Now that was not exactly a friendly move. He didn't even try to pass it off as stretching or counting how many shoulders he had or anything!

"Hands to yourself, Potter," I reminded him lightly, not wishing to upset the whole "frienemy" thing quite yet.

"What hand?"

I glared up at him. My attempt at sternness with him didn't last too long though —those bloody eyes of his were trying to hypnotize me, I tell you. One minute they're green, and the next they are some delicious shade of molten chocolate brown. It was like watching a kaleidoscope: annoyingly dizzying but impossible to look away from.

But I was too comfortable to force his arm off of me, so I just settled with muttering "Git" and listening to him chuckled quietly to himself.

Finally I decided that James had a pretty laugh. In fact, everything about James was pretty, save for the hair in the back of his head that stuck up in every direction, and his uneven eyebrows that were oddly shaped and kind of sparse in one area. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he plucked them. But other than that, he was the quintessential dreamboat —the kind of person that everyone wanted to be or be with. And it made perfect sense. Even in his white v-neck tee and plaid pajama pants that hung low off his hips, I could see clearly the muscles in his upper arms and shoulders. Quidditch was certainly doing him well. If only...

Sweet mother of Merlin, I was not just fantasizing about James Potter. I mentally slapped myself. _It's okay, Lily, the lack of sleep is only playing games with your mind. Breathe. _I repeated that to myself as I tried to banish the image of James shirtless from my brain. But unfortunately, my brain did not want to remove something that wonderful from its catalog.

I sneaked a peek up at James. His eyes were closed, and there was a peaceful little smile on his lips. I reached up to remove his glasses, which were sitting kind of crookedly on his nose, and set them aside in the grass. I sighed contentedly as I snuggled into his chest, not only because it was rock hard but also because I seemed to fit perfectly between his arm and his torso, like I was meant to be there.

As I drifted slowly to sleep under the stars, I wondered if Sirius would be proud of me for taking him up on his favorite rule.

_A/N: Okay, so at the beginning of this chapter I was struggling with some writer's block, and that's why it might seem a bit choppy. It literally took me two weeks to write this. It's a very good thing I've been ahead a few chapters for a long time. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! If you didn't...well I might have to curl up into a ball and cry._

_This week my family and I have been getting into the holiday spirit. All the packages have been arriving, and since I am the designated gift-wrapper in the family, it's been rather hectic. _

_On a negative note, my dog, Ellie Belle, has gotten herself into a lot of trouble this week. I came home from school one day and the garbage can was tipped over and everything was spilled out onto the floor. She had eaten all of the chicken bones we'd thrown away the night before, some potato skins, and just some garbage. And this was after she ate our Thanksgiving ham, a bag of Halloween cookies I made, a loaf of bread, her entire bag of 24 dog bones, and half of my neighbor's chocolate sheet cake. She didn't get sick from any of it. _

_Oh this is getting far too long. Thanks for reading and reviewing! I'm psychic so I know each and every one of you is going to click that little button down there! Thanks everyone!_

_With love,_

_Livelier _


	7. Morning Mental Meltdown

_A/N: Hello! I want to thank you all for a great response to the last chapter! The following people made my day with their wonderful reviews: Lily-Evans-James-Potter, Kaiaa, Lkay09, Frenzied Warrior, The Musical Fool, MaryandMerlin, Wondering Hail, Loslote, Sparkle Ninja27, drumer girl, fearlessforevermore (thank you for your constructive criticism! I tried to keep it in mind while writing this), Zakuro46, okok123, LilyxJames, and Dozy Dora. I loved reading all your reviews! I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to R&R! Thanks!_

_(The first chapter title wouldn't fit, so I had to use the other one. Personally, I like the first one!)_

Chapter 7: Meltdowns Don't Always Lead To Psychiatric Facilities

OR

Morning Mental Meltdown

My pillow was moving. Since when do pillows move? I wrapped my arms tighter around the unusually rigid cushion my head was resting on in an attempt to make it stay put. I smiled peacefully and relaxed back into sleep.

It was only a few minutes later when I first felt someone poking my stomach. Judging by the blinding light streaming through my closed eyes, it was very early. I frowned to myself; do I look like the Pillsbury doughboy? No! So _don't bloody poke me. _It's insulting and uncomfortably intrusive. Why would I want someone jabbing his finger into my stomach? It only proves the existence of my stubborn blubber cover. Stupid bastard was going to die if his finger came anywhere near me again.

"Lily," a deep voice whispered in my ear, "wake up." Something jabbed at my midsection once more.

That's it! I blindly flailed one of my arms until I came in contact with something firm and smooth. Now that I had a target, I flung my hand out and struck again.

A stream of obscenities met my ears. "Ouch! Bloody hell, Lily!" James cried as I continued to wave my limbs wildly. "What was that for?" he asked when he was finally able to pin my arms down to my side.

I cracked one eye open a slight bit and glared up at James through the little slits. "Don't poke my fat," I huffed angrily. My eye snapped shut again and I lapsed back into a slumber.

"What fat?" James chuckled.

I ignored him.

That is, until his fingers grabbed at the fattiest part of my sides and began tickling me. I squealed like a little piglet and buried my face in the crook of his neck.

"No! James, James! Stop!" I moaned, trying to control my fit of giggles as his fingers moved farther up to just under my arms. Tears were now streaming freely from my eyes, and my stomach clenched painfully from the laughter. "Ahh! Please, James, please stop!"

As I attempted to wrestle his hands away from me, I ended rolling on top of him. My brain hadn't yet registered this fact until I finally managed to get James's hands away from me and trapped above his head. Holding his wrists with my fingers, I suddenly became acutely aware of our rather awkward position. My body was laid flat out over his; our legs had somehow become tangled during the madness; my face —and my lips— was even with his; and my long hair had fallen to create a sort of curtain around us.

Holy sodding hell.

My breath hitched in my throat, but other than the poorly disguised desire in James's twinkling eyes, he seemed totally unaffected. "Damn," he cursed, smirking mischievously, "the one time I have Lily Evans screaming my name..."

And just like that, it was all over.

After giving him a smack on the chest and a firm reprimanding for his pervy, Sirius Black-ish comment, I extricated my legs and lifted myself off of him, trying to hide my face with my hair as much as possible.

There were three things —well, more than three but I was too lazy to count them all— wrong with being a redhead: first, "tan" is a foreign word to me, and unless I lather an entire bottle of sunscreen on my skin, my body was bound to end up as red as my hair; second, very few colors don't clash with my hair, so it's practically impossible to find decent clothing; and third, my skin is as fair as Dumbledore is gay, which encouraged the extreme pooling of blood, making me look like a bloody carrot-topped cherry. Not good.

"Shall we go in for breakfast?" James asked lightly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. "Bitsy is making French toast."

My head snapped up at the mention of the wonderful house elf's breakfast baking. "French toast?" I whimpered quietly. I could just imagine the drool dribbling down my chin. However, I doubted I could move. But _French toast_ was calling. Sigh. Decisions, decisions.

James nodded, sympathetic to my predicament. "Mhm, and bacon. Probably sausage, as well."

My eyes were as wide as saucers as I took this new information in. After barely a second hesitation, I scrambled up from the oddly comfortable ground, and nearly sprinted through the French doors and into the kitchen. Pausing at the entrance, I inhaled the smell of pure deliciousness wafting through the air.

Oh, Merlin, I was losing my mind.

At the dining table, James pulled my chair out for me. When I shot him a quizzical glance, he merely shrugged, and said, "Just practicing my Potter manners!" with a cheery grin. I rolled my eyes.

A few minutes later, the Potters, Remus, Sirius, and Peter took their seats at the table. I did a double take when I saw Peter following Sirius dutifully. He smiled at me, not surprised at all to see me here.

"'Lo, Lily," Peter squeaked.

I smiled warmly at the boy. He had always been sweet to me. "Hello, Wormtail. How has your summer been?" Six pairs of eyes stared curiously at me. "What?" I snapped at them. It was far too early for this nonsense.

"Er, not bad...Lily," he replied hesitantly, as if he was unsure of my name. I raised my eyebrow but let the subject drop.

Bitsy bounced in with plates and plates of French toast, bacon, and, yes, sausage! Halle-freaking-lujah. My life is now complete. Once I began stuffing my mouth full of food, all the morning's unusual events left my mind. My brain shut off, and my jaw took over. I was in a food coma. A heavenly, delicious coma that I never wanted to wake up from.

Everything was wonderful. That is, until I decided I needed to gain a few more pounds and asked Sirius for the homemade rolls.

"Pass the croissants, please, Padfoot," I said offhand as I reached for the huckleberry jam.

Sirius was looking a bit like a deer in headlights. I shook my head slightly. What was with everyone this morning? They were acting like it was a crime to ask for more food. Honestly, I just said "pass the croissants"...

Merlin fu—no, not even going to go there—Grindelwald! Oh the mental images.

My jam-covered knife clattered to the table. Had I just called Sirius 'Padfoot'? And Peter 'Wormtail'? Dear God in heaven, help me now. This could not be happening. Just last night I was criticizing the boys' ridiculous pet names for each other, and now I was using them? Not good.

I suddenly felt very confused. My brain was muddled and hazy, and I could feel a very strong headache coming on. It was like that time Alice and I snuck out of school (with Sirius's help, of course) to Hogsmeade right after our final exams last year. There was some young girl working instead of Madam Rosmerta, and she didn't even question us when we ordered a pitcher of Firewhisky. The five-galleon tip Alice dropped her probably helped persuade the girl. But anyway, the following morning had not been fun. We ended up passing out on the bathroom floor and sleeping through classes the next morning. Like I said: not fun.

My legs propelled me upwards out of my chair without my brain giving them a conscious command to do so. My voice sounded robotic as it spoke to Sirius. "Never mind that. Breakfast was delicious, Bitsy. Excuse me."

With that parting comment, I high-tailed it out of there, leaving my chair toppled over on the floor and the Potters staring at me oddly.

Once inside my bedroom, I quickly shut the door and flopped down onto the bed. In my head I went over the past few days and how horribly wrong everything had gone. It was never supposed to happen like this. I was supposed to hole up in my room and endure the painful week. Playing Quiddtich, sleeping under the stars with James, calling them by their stupid pet names that didn't make any sense...none of that was in the plan!

"Get a hold of yourself, Lily," I whispered into my hands, which were covering my face as I leaned back into the pillows. "Just relax."

After a few minutes, my breathing settled back into its normal rhythm and I removed my hands from my face. Sighing, I heaved myself of the bed and shuffled into the attached bathroom. I glanced in the mirror and immediately regretted it.

"Ew," I whined at the reflection, hoping with all my might that my eyes were playing some sort of trick on me and I didn't look as if I had just crawled out of a pile of rubbish. I didn't dare check to see how I spelled. If my face was as horrific as the mirror showed, I didn't want to even think about the stench that was most likely rolling off of me. I guess that's the price you have to pay when you sleep outside.

I reached inside the shower door to turn on the hot water, thinking it might put my mind at ease and erase all the ugliness on me. Then I turned back to the mirror. After getting most of the major knots out of my hair, I kicked off my slippers and clumsily stripped the rest of my pajamas off. I say clumsily because in the process I managed to get caught in my pants, and ended up falling on my face and knocking multiple things off the counter on my way down. But I eventually succeeded in getting rid of those blasted pajamas. I would take care of the mess I made later.

The hot water scalded my back when I stepped into the shower. I let out a yelp, and hastily adjusted the knob on the wall. All the muscles in my body immediately relaxed, and my eyes closed. If only I could stay in the shower forever, life might be a bit more livable.

There was a stone bench in one corner of the shower so I sat there and let the water pelt my face. It was oddly peacefully, the pounding of water droplets on my skin. I wondered idly if I would be a more peaceful person if I meditated like Petunia did, but then I thought: if it didn't work for her, why would it work for me?

So I just sat there, slumped against the wall of the shower, reminiscing my Morning Mental Meltdown, now to be known as MMM. It was rather obvious what events had led to it, and to be totally honest, it had been inevitable. If it hadn't happened then, it definitely would have before my time at the Potters' ran out.

But another MMM can easily be prevented. All I have to do is avoid any mishaps like the previous ones. For example, never again will I sleep under the stars with a sexy —I mean that in a totally platonic way— Quidditch captains, nor will I ever engage in compromising positions with aforementioned captain that I allegedly loathe. Another thing: the names Wormtail, Padfoot, Moony, and Prongs are henceforth banned from my vocabulary.

It's as simple as that. As long as I adhere to those rules, I'll be absolutely brilliant for the next few days! Another MMM is out of the question.

Finally I decided to stand up and get to the cleaning part of showering. I took the extra time to knead the shampoo into my scalp to ensure the shiny, healthy look, and I lathered my body multiple times with my favorite body wash. With a sad sigh, I shut off the hot water, and stepped out of the warm, friendly shower.

I quickly wrapped myself in a fuzzy, plush towel from the rack, and wiped my feet on the shaggy rug that greeted me. I picked up my brush off the counter and lifted it up. Then I brought it back down. Brushing my hair took so much _effort_! And besides that, my arms were already sore from playing Quidditch the other day. I could always just Charm my hair dry... It would be good practice for Charms class! It's a win-win for everyone!

I grinned and skipped happily out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. I picked up my wand from the nightstand.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a shirtless James rushed in. "Lily—!" He stopped and stared with wide eyes at me for a moment, his eyes lingering a tad too long on certain areas, before we both chorused, "Holy shit."

My face was on fire, I was sure of it. I hitched my towel up a little bit. "JAMES POTTER, GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" I screamed, flying into a fury. "Bastard! You can't just barge in here, you bloody wanker! Oh, get OUT, get OUT!"

James crossed his arms defensively. "No! It's my house! I'll do whatever the hell I please!"

"I'm your _guest,_ Potter!"

"Not a very good one!" he shot back at me.

I sent him a withering stare.

"Go ahead, glare at me. Burn a hole through my skull. Let's see what that accomplishes," said James sardonically.

I did, but instead of glaring at his face, I took to glaring at his stomach. His beautiful, beautiful stomach. Merlin, it was exactly how I'd pictured it would be in my fantasy yesterday. James waved his hands in front of my face.

"I'm up here, Evans!" I reminded me. When I glanced up, he was wearing that stupid arrogant smirk of his, and it pissed me off all over again.

"Ugh, I cannot _believe_ you! Don't you have any respect? Honestly!" I scoffed. "Walking in here without a shirt on, all sexy-like, looking like you've just come from a Quidditch workout... The audacity!"

James was staring strangely at me, his mouth agape, looking exactly like he had when I'd called Sirius "Padfoot" at the breakfast table. Merlin, did I refer to him as "Prongs" or something? Either way, if he was trying to imitate a Venus Fly Trap, he wasn't doing a very bang-up job.

I crossed my arms. "Oh don't you give me that look," I huffed indignantly. "Why don't you put a shirt—oomph!"

Then everything went eerily quiet. So quiet I could hear the teakettle hissing from the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Potter's chatting in the living room was loud and clear, and we could hear the whack of Sirius hitting Peter with a Bludger from the Pitch outside.

Why?

Because James's face was devouring mine. And I didn't mind one bit.

A/N: So. What did you guys think? I really hope you loved it because I had so much fun writing it. It definitely took me awhile (I finished last night) but once I found my rhythm, it was a breeze. On another note, even though next Friday is indeed Christmas Day, I still plan to update. Can you believe there are only a few chapters left? I'm so excited!

But anyway, you all know what to do! Click that little button down there and leave me a review! It doesn't have to be a full diagnosis of the chapter or anything like that. Even the smallest things make me smile!

Thanks very much, and happy holidays!

Mucho Amor,

Livelier


	8. Messy Mixups

_A/N: I'm a day early! Isn't that exciting? Thank you very much to the following reviewers: Ranma's girl1, Smile-Pass it on, DarlingILoveYou, Kaiaa, Lkay09, C.E. Sparks, Zakuro46, birchermuesli, Loslote, Frenzied Warrior, cemaciver, J.A. Hastings, mselphabathropp109, LilyxJames, Lily-Evans-James-Potter, and PicklettThePickle. You guys are amazing! __ Also, great thanks goes out to all of you who subscribed or favorited! Merry Christmas to all!_

_Warning: (Yes, this chapter comes with a warning) I'm going to apologize in advance for the regurgitatingly gross amount of excessive snogging and hormone-induced pervyness in this chapter. I might have gone a bit overboard. But just maybe. _

_R&R! _

Chapter 8: Messy Mix-ups

I don't know how long we stood there. It could have been minutes, hours, or days really that we stood there, intertwined as much as possible. My arm was aching from being pinned between James's chest and mine as I attempted to hold up my towel, and I could feel my lungs shrinking from the lack of oxygen, but I still didn't pull myself away.

Lucky for me, before I turned purple and passed out, James wrenched his lips free from mine. He grinned at me. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

I let out a huge gust of air, and whimpered, "Oh Christ." I flopped backwards onto the bed.

Mother of Merlin. I could already feel the next MMM coming on. Who knew the soon-to-be Head Girl would have trouble following the rules that _she_ set for herself? Well, technically, I hadn't broken _all_ of the rules (I hadn't called any of the Marauders by their pet names) but I was sure that full on snogging a shirtless James Potter in nothing but a towel completely obliterated any chance I ever had of avoiding another MMM such as the one before.

But oh how enjoyable breaking the rules had been!

I didn't have much time to ponder that thought, because James, who seemed determined to make up for all that lost time, climbed on top of me —I'm still wearing nothing but that bloody towel!— and kissed me softly. Or rather, that's how it started.

Our bodies were pressed so closely together that I no longer had to struggle to keep my towel up, which freed my hands to roam happily over the delicious muscles in his back and through that luscious hair. I sighed and sank even further into the down covers of the bed.

An alarm started ringing in my mind as I felt James's rough hand travel up my leg —thank Merlin's great-aunt Turk I had remembered to shave in the shower— inching up toward the hem of the towel. But even with all the bells going off, I couldn't bring myself to say anything, as my tongue was otherwise occupied...

In an attempt to get him to stop, I bit his bottom lip, hoping he would yelp in pain or something of that nature, but no such luck. James just hissed into my mouth and deepened the kiss even further (if that's possible). God, this boy needs to get some control over his hormones. But it's not as if I wasn't the same way; I was enjoying this just as much as him, if not more.

I dug my fingernails into the skin of his back as his fingertips reached under the towel. He seemed to get the message this time, and his hand slid back down the length of my leg, sending such violent shivers up my spine that the corner of the towel came untucked. (Enter choice expletive here).

Luckily enough —the big man upstairs sure was looking after me today— someone chose that moment to interrupt James and my little "conversation".

"Prongs, Momma Potter wanted me to —oh. _Oh._" Sirius stood in the doorway, staring James's hand, which was gripping my calf rather tightly, and our lips, which were —amazingly— still attached. We were both frozen, staring at him. It took a minute for it to sink in, but finally his Sirius's face split into a grin.

"Yeah, boy! Get some!"

My face felt like it was a zillion degrees. "I assure you this isn't what it looks like," I promised him once James had removed his lips.

"Oh?" Sirius raised an eyebrow and smirked evilly. "Because it looked to me like Prongsie here was about to rip that towel right off and have his wicked way with you."

I was ready to throw something hard at him, but James just laughed and rested back into the mess of sheets and pillows casually. One of his hands propped his head up and the other lay easily across my torso. "What did Mum want you to tell us?" he asked.

"She thought I ought to let you know that the Hogwarts letters arrived," he paused, "but I see you two have already celebrated that news."

I grabbed a pillow and chucked at him. It him square in the face but his laughter didn't cease. I took the momentary distraction to readjust my towel. James noticed and sent a wink in my direction. I glared at him.

Then something Sirius said registered. "Wait, did you say— our Hogwarts letters!" I squealed happily, and jumped up from the bed.

Sirius gave me a strange look, like he couldn't understand why someone would be so happy to get a piece of parchment from her school, and left the room. I started to follow him, but James caught my wrist and pulled me back to him.

I put my hands on his chest, keeping a reasonable distance between us. "James, we can get back to snogging _after_ I get my Head Girl badge," I said firmly.

He chuckled. "Glad to hear it, love, but I think you _might_ want to get dressed before you go down there. Just in case, you know." James grinned that cocky grin of his.

"Oh. Right."

He placed a light kiss on the tip of my nose, and then left the room, shutting the door behind him. I could have sworn I heard Sirius's deep, arrogant voice congratulate James on the other side of the door.

"Gits," I muttered to myself.

Quickly, I threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts that probably didn't match, and straightened up my bed a little —what if Mrs. Potter saw? I made extra work of fluffing the pillows, just in case there was a 'later'. Examining my work, I shook my head and messed up the pillows again. There was to be no more snogging today. Seriously.

On my way out the door, I crossed off all the days on the calendar I had missed while I was off marauding with the Marauders. That's when I realized that I only had one day left here at the Potter Manor. One measly little day. Maybe I could convince my parents to let me stay here until September first, when we would get on the train.

My parents. As I stared at my calendar, I wondered if I had given them any thought at all over the past week. Other than the few minutes after they left me, I could think of nothing. The saddest part was that I had thought of Petunia more often. So what if all those thoughts had been comparing her to something equally as horrid? It's the thought that counts!

I forgo the plan of asking for more time here —it's not as if I won't be seeing James and them a few days later— and made a mental note to give Mum and Dad gigantic hugs upon arriving home. And I tacked on a promise to not insult Petunia within the first hour of being back.

Content with that plan, I bounced downstairs. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were standing around the dining table, staring intently at something. Their backs were as stiff as boards and every single one of their mouths hung open. It was silent. That's how I knew something was very, very wrong.

I skidded to a halt next to James. "What's wrong? Who died?" I followed the boys' gazes to Remus's hands. Something silver with the letter HB etched into it glittered in the sunlight. I squealed excitedly.

"Ooh! It's so _pretty_," I cooed as I peered over Remus's shoulder at the badge. "Congratulations, Remus! Of course you got Head Boy. Everyone knew you would. You were the only really logical choice, what with your record as a Prefect and your grades. I must admit, I was a little frightened; it is Dumbledore we're speaking of. He's been known to do some pretty barmy things in his days. I reckon he's about half mad. Brilliant, yes, but mad."

I continued to ramble until my eyes caught a detail they seemed to have missed before. "Why does it say 'Potter'?" I demanded rudely, grabbing the badge from Remus. Surely my eyes deceived me.

But there it was, clear and permanent in the silver metal, right under the HB: 'James Potter'. I shook my head and dropped the thing back into Remus's limp hand.

"What did I tell you? Dumbledore is obviously getting old. How could he make such an important mistake? Perhaps he gave the badge and the envelope to McGonnagal and she misinterpreted things. I mean you _are _staying at James's house. She probably just got the names mixed up," I reassured him. "You should take it to Dumbledore as soon as we get back so he can fix it right away. He will be able to fix it won't he? Can you imagine how horrible—?"

"Lily," Remus interjected, shaking his head slowly back and forth, "I don't think it's a mistake." It was the first time anyone beside myself had spoken in the tense last five minutes.

I blinked. "But of course it's a mistake! It can't possibly be right. You're the one holding it, aren't you?" I said feebly, refusing to believe that the badge could belong to James.

Remus handed the disputable pin over to James, who stared at it like it was some foreign, new object that was to be beheld by all of mankind. I don't think he blinked.

I looked, uncomprehending, between the symbol and James. "But he wasn't even a Prefect!" I cried after a few minutes of whipping my head back and forth between the two. "He can't be Head Boy!"

It's not like I had any problem with James as a person —I think that much was proved earlier— but I'd never imagined him being the type of wizard to get such a high honor. The Head Boy was supposed to be kind-hearted, a role model, and smart! Sure James was smart, and maybe somewhere deep, deep down he had a soft side, but unless pulling pranks and cursing students in the corridors was considered model behavior, he was hardly someone the little kiddies could look up to.

Up until a week ago, I had completely despised him. In fact, I quite frequently had dreams about him falling a hundred meters off his broom onto a sharpened pitchfork. And the only thing that had changed that was his best mate drugging me by means of delicious fruit and stuffing me into a large bag.

"No," I whispered to myself. "This can't be happening."

For the first time I can remember, I sincerely wished I hadn't been given the honor of being Head Girl. It was a long shot, but I crossed my fingers tightly behind my back. Please let the envelope be empty.

I dug through the pile of letters and found mine. With a sinking heart, I realized that my envelope seemed a lot fatter than usual. I picked up a nearby knife and ran it along the top edge of the package. I stubbornly held my breath as I turned the envelope over. Please let it be empty.

No such luck.

A sparkly badge to match James's came tumbling out of the paper wrapping. The only difference was that it was labeled with an HG and then directly below that was my name.

Bloody hell.

I sank into the nearest chair, and let my head fall loudly against the wooden table. Bloody hell.

After a short pity party for myself, I lifted my head and announced to the room rather solemnly, "I'm turning it in."

"What?"

"I'm turning the badge in," I repeated.

A series of gasps followed that proclamation. The loudest one came from Peter. He dropped his own letter and it fluttered slowly down to the table.

"That's ridiculous," James said finally. His voice was thick and rusty from not being used in such a long time. "If anyone is going to turn their badge in, it's going to be me."

A split second passed before I shrugged. "Okay," I agreed nonchalantly. "Better you than me."

James glared at me. "Well thanks so much for the support, Lils," he snapped.

Remus, always the mediator, opened his mouth to interrupt us, but Sirius quickly cut him off. "Just leave it be, Moony. Let the lovers quarrel."

I glowered at Sirius. We are not lovers, thank you very much. "Shut it, Black!" I growled.

"Prongs, you can't turn your badge in," Remus said softly. "Dumbledore obviously chose you for a reason, and it would disrespectful to him to dispute that."

What is this? Gang up on Lily's happiness and peace of mind day? "Remus," I hissed, "if James wants to turn his badge in, he can!"

James was staring once again at the shiny pin in his palm. "Well I don't fancy it much, really," he acquiesced. "It would be sort of nice."

Nice? What? No! Curse Remus for planting these ridiculous thoughts into his head. "Are you sure, James?" I asked quietly. "I mean, it's going to require a lot of hard work, and I know how much you just _love_ that."

The joints in James's neck cracked loudly as he whipped his head around to focus his glare on me. "Why are you so against me being Head Boy, Lily?" he demanded.

"I'm not against it, James!" I huffed indignantly. "I just think you should... think this through a bit more before you commit to it."

"Oh, please. Don't insult my intelligence, Lily. Why can't you just admit you don't want me to be Head Boy?"

Exasperated, I threw my arms in the air. "Because I worked so hard for this, James!" I cried. "Being Head Girl was all I ever wanted, and I worked _so hard_! But you didn't do anything for this! You didn't even want it, for God's sake! You didn't even have to _try_ and you still got it!"

"What's going on in here?" Mrs. Potter asked as her and Mr. Potter's heads popped around the dividing wall between the front room and the dining room.

"Erm..."

"Nothing, Mum. Lily and I were just arguing over who is the better cook," James supplied easily, running a hand roughly through his messy hair. "We were just about to eat lunch."

Mr. Potter nodded and patted his stomach hungrily.

"Ooh! What are those?" Mrs. Potter squealed as she spotted our badges. She snatched them from our hands, studied them for a minute, and then threw her arms out. She hugged us both tightly against her.

"Well, I must admit this is a bit of a shock considering your previous record, James, but an honor all the same," Grace teased, grinning fondly at her son. "I must make something special for dinner tonight. What would you like? Oh never mind that, Bitsy and I will figure something out."

With that, James's mum left the room, calling for the little elf. It made me wonder how any offspring of that woman's could be so James-ish.

When she was gone, James gathered up his envelope and badge and stalked past me, sending a withering glare as he passed. Sirius followed his lead, then Peter, and finally Remus, who sent a tiny smile at me.

I sank back into my earlier occupied chair. "Bloody hell," I muttered, rubbing my temples.

Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

_A/N: So it's nearly Christmas (unless you don't celebrate it, of course) and I posted this... Doesn't that put me on Santa's nice list? Of course it does! This is the part where I sit on the big guy's lap, and ask very sweetly for a bunch of reviews! After all, they make me very happy and Christmas is the time of happiness. Do you catch my drift? Merry Christmas! (Review!)_

_Love,_

_Livelier_


	9. Blame it on the Flowers

_A/N: You guys are amazing. Have I told you that lately? Last week there were 21 reviews, not necessarily on that chapter. 21. Like I said, amazing. So, thank you to this very long list of people: Kaiaa, ALLY, DarlingILoveYou, Lily-Evans-James-Potter, Lkay09, MinisterKingsley, Serenity984, , Penelope Jones, Ranma's girl1, Sparkle Ninja27, Smile-Pass it on, owlsRforever, birchermuesli, Loslote, Frenzied Warrior, C.E. Sparks, DracoHermioneForever, PicklettThePickle, and The Musical Fool. Long list, eh? I love it. _

_I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Ramadan (even though it ended a while back)/ Saturday. Enjoy this chapter! It's a long one. R&R!_

_Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own it. If I did, Peter wouldn't be a traitor, Lily and James would never have died, nor would Sirius and Remus. So, basically, my version of HP would suck. _

Chapter 9: Blame it on the Flowers

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Mr. Potter grilled steak, Bitsy made loaded mashed potatoes and green bean casserole, and Mrs. Potter handled the French Silk pie.

It was so delicious I almost didn't mind the awkward, pointed silences, and evasive glances from the Marauders with the exception of Remus. Mr. and Mrs. Potter chatted amiably with each other as if nothing was wrong. I settled for eating my God-like food, and keeping my eyes on my plate. I tried not to think about the badge that sat atop the dresser in my room nor the person whom the partner badge belonged to. Just the thought made me stab my steak with a bit more aggression than usual.

After dinner, I hurried up to my room and locked the door.

I desperately attempted to block out the voices floating across the hallway from James's room. A series of _bang_s shook the walls, followed by loud laughter. I scowled. Honestly? Was it so much to ask to play Exploding Snap outside?

I tiptoed out of my room, gripping my wand tightly in one hand. I grimaced but cast the _Mufliato _charm on James's door, cursing Snape for teaching me such a tempting spell.

But on the bright side, I was finally able to get some sleep.

I awoke the next morning to something rather surprising: James. I smiled and pulled his face to mine, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to be pissed at him.

Oh what the hell. This was so much better than fighting.

"Mmm...Good morning to you too," James whispered as he pushed my hair back from my face. "Feeling nicer today?"

I nodded impatiently and laced my fingers through his hair. Less talking, more snogging please.

James, bless his little brain, entirely understood. "Move over," he mumbled against my lips. I obliged and he clambered up into the bed with me. He grabbed my hips roughly and pulled me on top of him with ease. Perhaps a little too easily.

"You seem to be pretty good at that, Potter. Had much practice?" I pulled away just long enough to grin at him. He didn't bother to answer.

Breathing rather heavily, I tore my lips away from him again. All this panting was making me feel like a ruddy dog. I hid my flaming face in James's shoulder as his lips moved to the side of my neck.

"Your hands are warm," I told him when his hands finally came to rest underneath my tank top at the base of my back. They sent shivers up my spine.

"Your skin is warm," he replied lightly and his hands crept further up my back.

That's when I realized I wasn't wearing a bra.

Oh Christ.

If James let his fingers roam any higher, he was going to find that out rather quickly as well. But how different was it really from snogging with just a towel on? Knowing him, James probably planned these moments. He most likely has a Lily Indecency monitor, and every time I'm less than fully dressed, he bursts in. Not that I mind, of course. Proper clothing would just get in the way.

"Can you imagine how much more fun this is going to be when we have the Head dorms all to ourselves?" James purred, chuckling. He pressed his lips back to mine before I could answer.

I froze. Did he say Head dorms?

"So—so, you plan to, er, keep your badge?" I asked, faking a causal tone.

James's eyebrows crinkled as he pulled back to look at me. "Well... yeah." His tone implied the _duh_ without him having to say anything. "I just figured that Dumbledore must have had some sort of motive for choosing me, and it would be rude to dishonor that."

"Remus," I corrected him. "Remus figured that Dumbledore must have some sort of motive. Not you." The words slipped out before I could stop them. The second they were out I knew it had been a mistake.

I quickly rolled off of him, and grabbed my bathrobe, turning away from him to tie it.

"Why are so against me being Head Boy?" James demanded angrily. "It's an honor, Lily!"

I spun around to face him again. "I know that! It's the highest honor you can possibly get at Hogwarts! It's been my dream since I was eleven years old, James!" I exclaimed. Merlin, that boy is incredibly thick. "You wonder why I work so hard, spend so much time studying. I'm a Muggle-born, James, and don't tell me that doesn't make a difference, because it does. It makes every bit of difference in the world. Things don't get handed to me on a silver platter because I'm rich, and pureblood. I have to work for my place in the Wizarding World. I've worked my ass off to get where I am, and I'll be damned if I'm giving my dream up."

"And you don't think I work hard?" James exploded at me. He jumped to his feet. "You can't even imagine the pressure I have on me to perform! As twisted as it is, people expect less of Muggle-borns because they've never been around magic before. They haven't grown up around it, and they're not expected to know anything about it. I have! Especially being a Potter!"

"Oh, don't pull the whole 'I'm a Potter' thing with me," I chastised.

"Lily, can you think of many Purebloods that are fighting Voldemort?"

_No, but I can think of multiple ways to kill you right now._ "There's the Weasleys and the Longbottoms," I answered coolly, thinking of Molly and Arthur, and Alice and Frank, who had graduated just a few years earlier. "And, er... Sirius."

James scoffed. "Sirius's whole family was in Slytherin. His younger brother is due to become a Death Eater anytime now, and his mother practically disowned him," he growled. "There are not very many Pureblood families like ours, Lily. And for that, people suppose I ought to be some sort of savior. Like I'm the one who's going to bring down Voldemort. You don't know how that is."

I shook my head and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I didn't realize..."

"No, I don't reckon you did."

I sighed. Must he always be so confrontational? "I'm sorry, James," I whispered mostly to myself. I doubted he could even hear me.

"What was that?"

"Er, I said 'that's...sucky'," I improvised wildly. Was that even a word?

James gave me a strange look. "Oh. Right..." He rumpled his hair. "Well, you should probably get dressed. We're supposed to leave for Diagon Alley in a few minutes."

Oh my Merlin. I had forgotten I was leaving today. I still had to shower, and pack, and eat breakfast. I felt like hitting myself in the face. "Oh, damn."

James grinned lopsidedly at me. "Don't worry about packing yet. You can come back after we get our supplies, and then Apparate straight from here."

I heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, James." I waited for him to leave, but he just stood there with his hands in his pockets. "Er, James, aren't you going to leave so I can get dressed?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on it..."

"Out!" I ordered.

He pouted. "Fine, if you insist." James blew me a sloppy kiss and left the room.

Shaking my head, I chuckled to myself. One minute we're snogging, the next we're reading to kill each other, and then all of the sudden, we're back to being civil to one another. It's like we're bipolar.

I dressed hurriedly, and bounced downstairs for breakfast. We all crammed some cereal down our throats, and then —only after Mrs. Potter made sure everyone had their supply lists and enough money— Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

The Marauders greeted Tom behind the bar like they were old friends. "'Ello, boys. Staying out of trouble this summer, I presume?" Tom asked as he wiped down the counter.

"You betcha!" James said with a wink of his left eye. I watched him with jealousy. Now why couldn't I do that?

"We've been good boys," Sirius added, grinning.

"Yes, if illegal kidnapping is considered being good," I grumbled in an aside.

Sirius scowled at me. "It was consensual!"

Obviously, all their skulls are denser than normal. It must be a prerequisite for joining the clan. "I believe you're speaking of _rape_, Sirius."

"But I kidnapped you, not raped you."

"Sweet mother of Merlin." I turned to James. "Is he all right?" I whispered.

"To tell the truth, I'd be worried if he was," James hissed back. "See you later, Tom!"

The first stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies. The boys, even Remus, all cooed over the newest version of some type of broom —a Cleanmop 2, or something like that. I hid in the corner of the little shop with the other girls who had been dragged in there by their boyfriends. At the half an hour mark, I took control of the situation and dragged them out by their ears. I looked back and saw the other girls start to do the same.

It seems I had started a revolution.

We dropped by the stationary shop for a few minutes so I could buy some new parchment, and then we crossed the street to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Apparently, Sirius owned an owl named Feathers that no one knew about, and he was in need of some new treats. But seeing as he couldn't tell us what kind of owl it was, we all figured he really just wanted to flirt with the blonde and busty girl behind the counter.

Judging by the way she —Veronica, we later learned— batted her eyelashes and smiled alluringly at him, I was fairly sure his awful pick-up lines ("Do you have a sunburn or are you always this hot?") were actually working on her. She must have been as dumb as she looked.

"Ooh! Flourish and Blott's!" I cried happily, nearly jumping up and down from the excitement of seeing my favorite bookstore ahead of me. James, Sirius, and Peter looked as excited as I was feeling in the Quidditch store. "Why are you standing there? Books are waiting. Let's go!"

Three groans followed Remus and I as we danced across the cobblestone street to the bookstore. We skidded to a stop just after we burst through the doors. I breathed in the familiar smell of leather and parchment. It was the best smell in the world.

"Ah, heaven."

I picked through the rows and rows of books with a small, content smile on my face. I had everything I needed for school within the first ten minutes, and I spent the next thirty browsing the newest titles, and reading the backs of those that looked interesting. Every once in a while I would drop a few books at the table where James, Sirius, and Peter sat, banging their heads on the table in rhythm.

After awhile I supposed they got tired of sitting there, or maybe their heads started to hurt, because James came and found me in one of the rows of books. I was leaning against the shelves, reading the synopsis when James trapped me.

He put his hands on either side of my head, and moved in close. "I've been sent to _persuade_ you to leave," he informed me, smirking.

"Oh? And how do you plan to do that?" I asked, already breathing heavily and he hadn't even done anything yet.

"Well..." His lips brushed my exposed collarbone. "I do have my ways."

I placed my hands on his chest, and bent my head down to place a seductive kiss on his smooth jaw. "As fun as that sounds..." He leaned in expectantly, but I just pushed him away. "I have strict rules against snogging amongst books. They're quite sacred to me, you know."

I applauded myself on my quick thinking, because honestly, snogging secretly in the labyrinth that is a bookstore would be incredibly sexy and oddly exclusive. I made a mental note to try it some time.

"You prize books more than you prize me? That's hurtful."

I rolled my eyes. "Let's go."

After paying for my books, we ventured out of the dimly lit store, and into the bright sunlight. As we walked towards Madam Malkin's, James tried multiple times to grab my hand. I quickly flung it in the air and pointed at nothing, almost hitting James in the face.

"Whoops, sorry. I thought I saw a...bird," I lied.

The next time he tried, I pretended to get shuffled behind him by the crowd, although there was hardly anyone else in the street. And after that, I claimed my hand was clammy and I didn't want him to get AIDS. When he asked what that was, I tried to make it sound as convincing as possible. He made a funny face, but didn't say anything. I wondered idly where the rest of the Marauders went.

I finally snapped when he grabbed my hand and refused to let go, no matter what lame excuse I threw at him. "James, will you stop trying to hold my bloody hand!"

"Is it a crime to hold my girlfriend's hand?" James exclaimed loudly, stopping us in the middle of the narrow street.

Girlfriend? Did my ears deceive me or did he just say 'girlfriend'? Bloody hell.

People were starting to stare at us, so I pulled James into a narrow alleyway off of the main drag.

"Since when am I your _girlfriend_, James?" I hissed through clenched teeth. Honestly, the audacity of some people! More specifically, people named James Potter.

"I kind of figured that it was one of those implied things after you _snogged me completely bloody senseless_!" James said in a low, rough voice.

"'One of those implied things.' How romantic," I replied scathingly, scoffing.

James threw his hands in the air. "Well, Christ, Lily! What do you want from me?"

"You didn't even ask me, James. You didn't ask if I wanted to be your girlfriend. You just...snogged me."

"You didn't seem to have any problem with it at the time!"

True. That is very true. But it's still a big deal! It's like going to a restaurant and being served food you didn't order; it's still delicious, but not exactly what you had in mind. Perhaps I was in the mood for chicken, not steak.

I pursed my lips and tapped my foot impatiently.

"Fine," James shrugged as he slid down to his knee and grabbed my hand in his.

My eyes grew as wide as saucers. "Merlin, James, I didn't mean ask me to marry you!"

He rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored me. "Lily," he began, his hazel eyes big and imploring. I could feel my insides start to melt. "Lily, will you please do me the extreme honor of being my girlfriend?"

If we had been anywhere but a dark, dingy alley, my decision would have been made in an instant. If he had been holding flowers and a nice big box of chocolates instead of my hand, I would have snogged the freaking daylights out of him. But unfortunately, we were standing in a creepy alley where wizard rapists most likely hang out and he wasn't holding flowers or chocolate.

I sank to my knees in front of him. "And what exactly does that entail?" I asked him quietly. "What does that mean for me?"

James grabbed my other hand as well, so it looked like we were two little kids playing Ring Around the Rosie in an alley. He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

My eyes closed involuntarily, and I saw myself back at Hogwarts. Everything was the same. My friends and I were all lounging about on the sofas by the fire, laughing and having a good time. But one thing was different: mixed in with my friends were the Marauders, acting like we'd all been friends since the very beginning. And there was James, sitting on the couch next me, our hands intertwined casually, resting in his lap. Our books and homework were left untouched on the table.

I could picture it all in my head, but I wanted nothing to do with it. All I wanted was to fulfill my duties as Head Girl with smooth capability and reasonably strictness. I would be well liked and students would respect me just as they would respect McGonnagal. I would graduate with honors and go on to be a Healer. A boyfriend wasn't in that equation. James wasn't in that equation.

"James," I whispered, keeping my eyes down on the pavement, "I can't be your girlfriend. When we go back to Hogwarts, people will talk. And it's not going to be in a good way. I'm supposed to hate you, James!"

"So? Who bloody cares if a bunch of low-lifes spread rumors about us? Why does that matter to you?" James demanded, and I could hear the hurt in his voice. And then in a smaller voice, "it's the flowers isn't it?"

"What flowers?"

"Oh, Lily, I'm sorry. I would have stopped for flowers if I had known! Wait—here! We can just pretend..." He held out a bouquet of invisible flowers to me.

"It's not about your bloody imaginary flowers! I just don't need that talk, James!" I hissed. "I'm Head Girl! I don't need that! And I don't need you. What I need is to graduate with top grades, and get into Healer school. That's all I need."

James was shaking his head vehemently before I'd even finished. "No. No, Lily, you're thinking too much. Forget what you need, and just feel. What do you _want_?"

I finally lifted my gaze to look him in the eyes. "I want to go home," I said. My voice cracked as I stood up. "I'm sorry, James, but this was never in the plan. I've had my whole life mapped out since I was eleven years old, and I intend to stick to that plan."

My hands slipped out of James's grasp and I took a step back. "I'm sorry. Goodbye, James."

The last thing I saw before I felt that familiar tug behind my navel was James's face crumple, and then I spun out of sight.

_A/N: I'll probably need a suit of armor to dodge the sharp objects you guys are mentally throwing at me, but it had to be done. Although it pains me to do it, someone always has to die or get his or her heart broken. I'm not one for character death, so I had to thrust a dagger into James's heart. In most stories, James is the one who screws everything up, but since I'm in love with him, I like to have Lily fill that roll. Kind of morbid, isn't it?_

_Anyway, my family and I spent the week at a resort type of community near a big ski area, and being out here has done wonders for my muse. In fact, I wrote most of this during that lovely five-hour drive down here. _

_Next chapter is the last one! I can't even believe it. You guys have been brilliant, and I really appreciate all the feedback I've been getting. It's a major confidence booster. __So keep it up! Okay, now I'm done. _

_So much love you'll never believe,_

_Livelier_

_(Review!)_


	10. Unhealthy

_A/N: Happy New Year! It's only been a couple of days since I posted the last chapter, but I was too anxious to wait until Friday to post this. So, here you go. I had better get extra reviews for this one! A gigantic, loving thanks goes out to the following people who reviewed: amy-x-ian-forever, DarlingILoveYou, Loslote, Ranma's girl1, DracoHermioneForever, Charlotte2809, SamsSmiles247, Lily-Evans-James-Potter, PicklettThePickle, Sparkle Ninja27, MaryandMerlin, hpfan, C.E. Sparks, Frenzied Warrior, and iloveharrypotter711. You guys have all been amazing. The feedback I've gotten has been great, and this story wouldn't be what it is without you all. So THANK YOU!_

_And now I present to you the final chapter of 'Napped! R&R? Enjoy! It's the longest chapter yet..._

Chapter 10: Unhealthy

I wobbled unsteadily as my feet touched the hard cement of my driveway. I could hardly see the house through the haze of unshed tears, but I stumbled blindly forward anyway.

It had only been one week but it felt like an eternity. Now everything felt so foreign and unfamiliar to me, although this was my home, and I longed to be back at the Potter Manor with James and Sirius and Remus and even little Peter.

Walking through the garage I noticed my shiny, red bike flaunting itself in the corner. Somehow Sirius had made sure it was returned safely. I felt a surge of fondness for the boy. Sure he could be annoying, and more than a little perverted, but he was a good friend, and a wonderful person.

Absent from their usual places were Mum and Dad's cars. They have still been at work.

The garage door slammed behind me as I entered the house. It even smelled different. Was Mum trying out a new air freshener or had I just never noticed the peculiar scent before?

Petunia was in the living room, sprawled across the couch watching the television as usual when I came in. For a moment, we just stared at each other. I offered a small smile at her, remembering the mental note I made the day before to be nicer to her.

The effort wasn't returned. After a few seconds of sizing me up, Petunia turned her nose up at me. "Ew," she announced, and turned back to continue watching her program.

I promptly burst into tears.

Navigating the stairway was a difficult thing to do since I couldn't see more than a few inches in front of me at one time. I tripped and fell multiple times, nearly hitting my head on the railing once, before I gave up and crawled.

I didn't bother lock the door when I reached my room —no one would be coming to check on me. I didn't even take the time to flick on the light switch before throwing myself onto my bed and burying my face amongst the abundance of pillows. Darling, my favorite stuffed unicorn, greeted me with a horn to my eye.

That just made me cry even harder.

There was an abrupt tap on my door, and then Petunia peered in. "Would you mind keeping it down in here? I can't hear my program." A dreamy expression crossed her face. "Jake's about to propose!"

I gave her a blank look, as if to say "and I care...why?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Lily."

I'll get right on that.

Petunia heaved a sigh. "Move over, freak," she ordered, pushing me onto the opposite side of my bed. She sat down. "What's wrong?" She acted as though she would rather have her fingernails ripped off than talk to me.

"Nothing," I sniffed.

"Please, Lily, don't insult my intelligence. Believe it or not, I'm not as thick as you may think."

It was difficult to hold back the loud snort of laughter that rose to the surface, but I managed. Petunia just glared at me while I attempted to control myself.

"You know, if it's boy troubles you're having, I might be pretty helpful," Petunia suggested lightly.

I seriously doubted that. Hooking a whale such as Vernon Dursley doesn't exactly take a whole lot of proficiency. I gave her a skeptical look. "How so?"

"Vernon and I celebrated our eleven month anniversary just the other week. Oh, it was so romantic!" she gushed proudly.

I rolled my eyes. Dursley and romance didn't mesh well. Perhaps that was possible in an alternate universe where McGonnagal also smiled and Snape washed his hair on a daily basis. But seeing as we lived on planet Earth, he probably took my sister on the exclusive tour of his drill factory.

Petunia sighed. "I know you don't like him very much, Lily, but he takes good care of me. Even though it seems unlikely, Vernon loves me and I believe I love him too. One day, you'll feel the same way about someone, and then you will understand that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks about the bloke. The only things that matter are each other."

It all sounded rather strange coming from my sister. This was the same girl that makes a pained face every time my mum and dad so much as shared a gooey glance, and still vehemently insists that babies are delivered by means of stork.

I pulled my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms loosely around them. "What does it feel like, Tuney? To love someone, I mean?" I whispered.

She didn't say anything for a long while. When she finally did, it didn't sound like her. The way she spoke was oddly mature. "It feels like nothing else in the world. When you're not with him —or her, depending on which way you swing— all you want is to be there, wherever he might be. And when you are with him, you're just content to lay in his arms forever. He consumes your thoughts and dreams constantly. Every other guy pales in comparison." She shrugged. "Words don't really do it justice."

Suddenly I was back in the guest room at the Potter manor. It was the day Sirius had walked in on James and I snogging. His arm was wrapped securely around my waist, holding me to him. My back was pressed to his chest. Everything felt so normal, and comforting, and natural. My heart ached to be back there, with him.

Did that mean I was in love?

"Lily," Tuney said, reading my mind, "If you're wondering if you're in love... I'd say you are."

"What? Why? How?" I gripped her skinny, pale arm with my fingers, and gave it a little shake.

"God, Lily, desperate much?"

I glared at her.

"Look. I have eyes, and although I was rather confused the night we were at that—place, I remember very clearly watching you two. He —the good-looking, black-haired boy with the glasses— was looking at you like Vernon looks at me. And I know you might not have realized it at the time, but you looked at him the very same way. It wasn't as obvious, of course, but it was there. I know that look when I see it."

So it's true then. I was in love.

"Oh, _crap_. Crap crap crap crap crap!" I moaned, falling back into the pillows.

"Er, Lily?" Petunia touched my shoulder tentatively.

"I'm an idiot," I finally concluded.

Tuney smirked. "I've been saying that for years."

"How am I going to fix this?" I pleaded to no one in particular.

"Fix what exactly?"

"Well..." I launched into the story, leaving out most of the details when I reached the part where James practically snogged me towel-less. She cringed and gasped in all the right parts, and when I was finished, she whacked me.

"Ow freaking ow!" I cried, clutching my shoulder in pain. "What was that for?"

"God, Lily, I thought you were the smart one! How could you do that to him?" Petunia exclaimed.

"I didn't realize I was bloody in _love_ with him, Petunia! I thought we were more like... friends with benefits, I guess," I explained for lack of a better phrase.

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "What kind of benefits are we talking here? Did this medical plan cover major invasive surgeries, or just regular check-ups?"

I grimaced. "Thanks for that image, Tuney."

"Well which one is it?" she demanded.

"Check-ups," I replied. "Er, and those physical things. You know, the ones where the doctor gropes you and claims it's to ensure you're healthy? Especially those things."

Petunia gasped. "Lily Marie Evans! Am I going to have to tell Mum to enroll you in Teenagers Against Destructive Decisions?"

"You wouldn't!"

"No, probably not," Petunia agreed. "I'd enroll you myself. I can't have my baby sister getting pregnant at the ripe age of 17! I've got a reputation to protect, you know."

I snorted. "Well, I'm never going to have children if I don't find a way to fix this!"

"Right." Petunia glanced around the room. "You get in the shower and I'll find something for you to wear. Be quick, Lily! But be thorough. You look like hell."

"Thanks, Tuney."

"Go!"

I stripped my clothes off while I ran to the bathroom and left them in my trail. When I turned on the shower, the water was still ice cold, but I jumped in anyway. I let out a little squeal. It seemed like every nerve in my body was a live wire.

After lathering, rinsing, and repeating with my shampoo, and scrubbing my face clean, I stepped out of the shower. With my wand, I removed all the little red hairs from my legs, and dried my hair. I wrapped the towel around me and bolted to my room. An unfamiliar outfit was lying on my bed. I skidded to a halt.

"Petunia," I squeaked, "What is that?" I pointed to the low-cut, flowing, feminine tank top and miniature white shorts on my bed.

"They're clothes, Lily," Petunia said bluntly.

"Not enough of them! I can't wear that!"

"Well, I couldn't find any of your decent clothes, so I picked something of mine for you to wear!" she explained impatiently.

"Merlin's beard!" I cried, realizing something rather important. "My things are still at James's! I was supposed to go get them after we finished in Diagon Alley."

"Go get them then, Freak! Oh, and fall down the stairs or something so he has to pay attention to you. He couldn't possibly leave an injured, underdressed girl at the foot of the stairs. It would be totally immoral."

"I love you, Tuney."

She shrugged. "It's a blessing and a curse."

Five minutes later, I was fully dressed —wearing a push-up bra at Tuney's insistence—my hair was done, and my makeup was on. I looked like a hoe, but at least I was clothed. James's Lily Indecency meter would go crazy when I showed up.

As I stood by the front door, I tried to focus on being determined, my destination, and deliberation, but mostly I just thought about how screwed I was if James wouldn't forgive me. So it was no surprise that I landed in the kitchen of the Potter manor without half my fingernails.

"Oh, Christ," I whimpered. Well, at least Tuney would be satisfied.

I looked up as someone entered the kitchen.

James froze, stared at me for a moment, and then robotically turned on his heel. I reached out automatically with my injured hand and grabbed his arm.

"Your things are upstairs," James said coldly without looking at me.

"That's great, James," I replied briskly. His words just bounced right off my skull. "Listen, I didn't mean—"

"Lily!" Mrs. Potter cried when she walked into the kitchen. "Oh my, you're bleeding! Come, come, I'll have this fixed this in a heartbeat. James, dear, will you fetch my medical bag from the office, please?"

She grabbed my fully intact hand and towed me to the dining room table. After pulling out a chair, she pushed me down into it, and picked up my other hand in order to examine it more fully.

James appeared a few seconds later with a black bag. He refused to meet my beseeching eyes. He set Mrs. Potter's bag on the table, and turned once again to leave the room.

"James, sit down," Mrs. Potter commanded. She dug through the bag, murmuring to herself all the while. "Hmm, it's not here. I must have left it with Bitsy. You two stay here while I look for that potion..."

Once she was out of earshot, I leaned over the table. "James, please listen to me," I pleaded. He just turned his head to look out the window. Fine.

I took a deep breath. "I have an obsession with being perfect," I admitted. "I thought it was just my sister, but apparently the gene was passed on to me as well. We both have this idea in our heads of what we're supposed to be and how people are supposed to think of us. Tuney wants nothing more than to be normal. She wants to be married and have a baby boy. They'll live in a large house on a quiet, tree-lined street, and their lawn will be the best kept in the entire neighborhood.

"My idea of perfect is a bit different. I want to be respected and important. I want to make a difference in people's lives. My goal is to be a brilliant Head Girl and a renowned Healer."

My eyes searched James's face. He didn't appear to be listening to anything I was saying, but I knew he was by the way his nose would occasionally give the smallest of twitches, and his eyes would close for a fraction of time too long to be a blink. I knew he was imagining himself in my idea of a perfect life.

"But I'm not perfect, James. I bite my nails when I get anxious, and I can't wink my left eye unless I hold it down when I close both eyes and then open my right one. I have a very low alcohol tolerance, and I sound like a dying chimera when I try to sing. I have to wear mascara one hundred percent of the time, because my bare red eyelashes look like fire ants attacking my eyes."

The corner of James's lips trembled at this, threatening to break into a smile. I plowed on.

"If people were going to talk about me, it's more likely that they'd be talking about my freakish qualities rather than our scandalous romance, or whatever you want to call it. But I don't really care. I really don't give a damn what they think. All I care about is what you think. Can you believe that?"

I stared at him until he finally turned his head to look back at me. I wanted to jump up and squeal gleefully at my success. But I didn't. James didn't say anything.

I lowered my voice to a whisper. "When I got home, I immediately wanted to Apparate right back here. I just wanted to be with you. The worst part was that I couldn't understand why that was, and that scared me. That scared the hell out of me."

My voice softened even further. "Then I remembered when you first kissed me. I remembered how easy it had been, how _perfect_ it was." A tiny, lone tear slipped down my cheek. "It kills me to know that might never be mine again, and I can't stand it. I don't want that, James, and I don't want to lose you."

Another tear joined the first one, and they ran down my face, over my lips and onto my chin. I reached up to brush them away.

"What about your perfect plan?"

I hadn't heard James's voice in so long; I jumped a little when he spoke. I looked up from the table and saw his eyes probing mine. They were more subdued and serious than I had ever seen them.

"It's not perfect," I said quickly. "Not without you it's not. If you're not in it, then I don't want that life." I shook my head. "Why should I have a perfect life when I'm not the right person to lead it?"

James pursed his lips as he considered this.

"I will understand if you can't forgive me, James, but I couldn't live without you knowing that. You need to know that I love you." I gulped a bit as the words went out. They felt strange on my tongue, but not altogether unpleasant. I repeated them not only for emphasis, but also so that it would sink in. "I love you."

"Aha! I finally found —oh," Mrs. Potter said as she came back into the room holding a glass bottle.

"Mum, will you give us a minute?" James asked, not taking his eyes off me. His voice had an authoritative edge to it that I had never heard or noticed before. He sounded like an adult, like a Head Boy.

"Yes, of course," she said hastily, backpedaling out of the room. "I'll just be in the, er, garden." I could have sworn I heard her hiss to the others just outside of the door, "Go on, shoo. Give them some privacy. Honestly, where are your manners?"

For a while, neither of us spoke. He studied me while I searched his face for something, anything.

"Do you really mean that?" he asked.

More tears streaked down my face as I bobbed my head. James reached across the table to cup my face in his hands. His thumbs wiped the tears off my cheeks and lips.

"You're wrong, you know," he said in an offhand tone.

"Wha-what do you mean?" My voice cracked a little on its way up.

"You are perfect. Perfect in my eyes, anyway," he whispered.

I let out a grateful sound that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh. "But I can't sing, or wink with my left eye," I said weakly.

"My Mum has to drag me to the barber, and I leave my shoes wherever I take them off at," James countered with a grin. "And I'm in love with a girl that's way too stubborn for her own good, and has an attitude to match her fiery hair."

My eyes widened. "You love me?"

"More than is considered healthy."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that's a relief. I thought it was just me," I admitted.

James chuckled. "You look beautiful, by the way. I like the shorts. "

I grinned, and made a mental note to thank Petunia for that. "You don't think they make me look like a stupid slag?"

"Absolutely not."

When he kissed me, it wasn't anything like the first few times. Whereas those had been urgent, and passionate, this kiss was slow and soft and more than anything, loving.

In the background there were several whoops and catcalls coming from Sirius, I presumed. From the corner of my eye I could see Remus give James the thumbs up sign, Peter was squealing excitedly, and Mrs. Potter was eyeing my fingernails still.

"Those really ought to be fixed," I heard her mutter to Mr. Potter. "She's getting blood all over James's new T-shirt."

It wasn't at all romantic, what with my bleeding fingers and the Marauder's prying eyes and Mrs. Potter's incessant babbling, but James and I paid them no attention.

It was perfect.

* * *

_A/N: There you have it. That was the end of 'Napped! I sincerely hope you all loved this story as much as I did, and had just as much fun reading it as I did writing it. Like I said before, you guys have been brilliant, and I truly appreciate all the support and feedback I've been getting throughout this entire story. It means the world to me and more! _

_It could be a little while before I get working on my next Lily/James fic, but I can promise you it will be just as fun if not more fun than this story has been. So be sure to check that out when it's up. _

_Thank you so incredibly much! A review to reward me for putting this up nearly a week early would be wonderful... (hint, hint)_

_Love,_

_Livelier_


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